


A Taste of Heavenly Rush

by jaeger_delta (deltasierra)



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, D/s, Discipline, Dominance, Kink, M/M, Masochism, S&M, Spanking, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-15
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-01 14:44:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 30,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltasierra/pseuds/jaeger_delta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yancy is attending his usual bimonthly kink party, when a new face appears. Chuck immediately catches Yancy's attention and Chuck craves a lot more than casual conversation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Taste of Heavenly Rush

**Author's Note:**

> If there's such a thing as fluffy BDSM, this is it.
> 
> I did not expect to fall for this pairing as much as I did, but it turns out D/s Yancy/Chuck works so well it almost writes itself. Almost. I have lost sleep writing this fic. And so the PR fandom continues to ruin my life.
> 
> And remember, always play safe, sane and consensual.

Yancy leaned back casually against the bar, the kind of casual that was executed with precise movement and grace to make it appear like he really just happened to smoothly fall in place. He was wearing a tight, dark blue cotton blouse and black leather pants with a studded black leather belt and black leather shoes. The outfit stood out in its elegant simplicity and he wore it well. He sipped his drink, an alcohol-free, green-tinted soda with a hint of lemon and a distinct, bitter taste. It wouldn’t do to get inebriated in this setting, though many of the other attendees to the bimonthly _Kink Box_ party didn’t take such care of themselves or their potential partners.

 

Yancy’s gaze drifted back and forth across the room. The gathering was at a cosy location. Fluffy seats and big couches were scattered around and the walls decorated with wavy, soft fabrics in warm colors, all accompanied by dim amber lighting. The softness of the decor contrasted with the play corners, separated from the rest of the room by thin, nearly see-through curtains that didn’t hide much in the way of sight or sound. The curtains weren’t for privacy but an indicator for the use of the space. If you wanted to play, that’s where you went. The couches and seats should stay clean for the less adventurous guests, too.

 

The _Kink Box_ party was welcome to curious novices, after all. And on this particular night, bored and alone, Yancy was wondering if maybe he should move on to the more intense, bigger occasions, such as _Kink Cave_ or _Kink Dome_. There was a whole series of them, one for every kind of crowd.

 

But Yancy liked the curious novices. The way their eyes lit up when they saw what they had walked into, with wonder, fascination, desire, and occasionally, fear. Some then left, but most didn’t. Some never played and simply observed, like an Alice in BDSM Wonderland. And it was a common misconception that only the submissive types had that hesitation about them. Novices came in all shapes and sizes and with all kinds of desires, whether it was dominance or submission, inflicting pain or experiencing pain.

 

He wouldn’t be foolish enough to go about preying on the mostly innocent, of course. Being a hunter was frowned upon at the Box and would earn you a ban and a referral to the Cave. Possibly as a spank bunny ready for some attitude adjustment.

 

The current crowd wasn’t very interesting, however. Not many new faces, and those that were seemed either already experienced, perhaps even jaded, or content with being social, talking and sharing drinks with their friends.

 

So Yancy was trying to make up his mind, whether to find one of the usual willing bunnies, or call it a night. He could always use some practice in his ropework.

 

And then a new face walked in.

 

Messy ginger hair, freckles, vulnerable eyes underneath a low brow, a strong jaw, a freckled neck set on freckled round shoulders that sloped into toned freckled arms, exposed by a sleeveless low-cut leather shirt that had ample room to display chiseled abs.

 

Yancy’s tongue flitted across his lips. Everything about this stranger turned him on, and everything about this stranger screamed curious novice.

 

Yancy let out a soft groan when the fresh ginger face turned away from him and he was treated to the sight of dimples in a muscular back just above a pair of tight dark green cotton slacks that did nothing to hide the wonderful shape of the ass underneath.

 

The gorgeous novice turned around again, having a lost look about him. Yancy guessed that he came here all on his own rather than being introduced by a friend.

 

Not strictly being allowed to hunt on novice grounds didn’t mean he couldn’t welcome a new member of the club, right?

 

Yancy slid off the barstool and began to move towards the stranger, appearing to the trained observer much like a panther approaching its prey, and so he was lucky none of the party’s moderators were paying attention to him.

  


 

 

Chuck’s heart was thumping in his chest and he was convinced he looked terribly lost and out of place. He’d been preparing to go to the _Kink Box_ for weeks, if not months, if you counted participating in the online community. He bought this low-cut sleeveless leather shirt which was so far from his usual baggy clothing he felt like a different person wearing it, and maybe that was the whole point.

 

Stepping through the door of this place was much like stepping into a whole other world, tumbling down the hole, following the rabbit of desires he still couldn’t fully explain but definitely could no longer deny the existence of.

 

There were a lot of half-naked people, was the first thing he noticed. And a few entirely naked ones in the corners, behind curtains that didn’t really do the usual curtain thing of hiding something from sight. There was the occasional cry and the sound of something hitting skin with a measure of force set to the background noise of ambient electro-pop and the buzz of casual conversation and laughs.

 

Chuck really didn’t know anyone here, and nobody here knew him. The relative anonymity gave him some comfort, but he wasn’t sure what to do next. He’d kind of expected to walk into an orgy. But this just looked like a lounge room with more exposed skin, mixed with the smell of leather, PVC and latex, and chains hanging off the walls.

 

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a bar and figured it was as good a place to go as any. Perhaps a beer would calm his nerves.

  
  


 

Yancy slowed his stride when he saw the novice approach the bar, letting himself be obscured by other party attendees until the stranger was close enough, and then gallantly spun towards him, flashing his most dashing smile.

 

“Welcome,” Yancy said, positioning himself between the bar and the stranger. “Haven’t seen you around here before.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Yancy.”

 

Sometimes people bothered with pseudonyms. He didn’t.

 

This guy looked even more ridiculously handsome up close, and Yancy watched a flush creep up on the man’s face when he made eye contact.

  
  


 

Chuck just about made it to the bar when a handsome blonde man crossed his path and stuck out his hand, introducing himself as Yancy.

 

And handsome was an understatement. Yancy had a wide smile and light, twinkling eyes, a tight leather blouse that accentuated the muscle underneath, exuding charm and strength with every gesture. A warm flush crept up Chuck’s cheekbones.

 

He took Yancy’s hand into his own and his skin tingled at the touch. “I’m Chuck,” he answered, and then cursed himself for not giving Yancy a fake name.

 

Chuck glanced at the bar. “Er, sorry mate,” he said to Yancy, “I was just about to get a drink.”

 

Like the man wasn’t attractive enough already, he was Australian. The rowdy accent matched his low, rumbling voice perfectly. Yancy’s smile broadened. “Of course,” he said. “What can I get you?”

 

Chuck shrugged. He wasn’t about to turn down a free drink, after all. “A beer,” he answered.

 

Yancy’s smile turned a little less friendly. “That’s not a good idea,” Yancy said.

 

Chuck’s skin prickled at Yancy’s words, almost as if the man had uttered a threat. “What, why not?” Chuck replied. He didn’t care how handsome Yancy was, he wasn’t about to get told what to drink by a relative stranger. He wasn’t _that_ submissive.

 

Yancy’s expression softened. “I’m sorry,” he said, cocking his head to the left a little. “A lot of people here don’t abide by SSC and get drunk. A pet peeve of mine.”

 

Chuck raised an eyebrow. “SSC?”

 

Chuck was even more of a novice than Yancy had figured. And perhaps he was lucky that Yancy had caught him before anyone else.

 

“Safe, sane and consensual,” Yancy said. “A place like this, you don’t want to end up doing anything with a muddled mind.”

 

“Makes sense,” Chuck replied, though his frown deepened, casting more shade over his eyes. It was a lovely frown. Yancy wondered what Chuck would look like crying out in pleasure, begging for more, begging for less. He licked his lips again.

 

“I’ll have a coke then,” Chuck ventured, and observed Yancy giving an approving nod. Another tingle crept across his skin.

 

Yancy took their drinks from the bartender and then smiled at Chuck. “Come,” Yancy said, and Chuck followed.

 

They sat down on one of the sofas, in a quieter corner of the room. Yancy nipped from his drink, a smile playing across his lips as he observed Chuck. The flush hadn’t left Chuck’s face or neck and his eyes occasionally met Yancy’s, then flitted back to stare at his drink and gaze around the room. He was tapping his foot a little and the nail of his right index finger scratched lightly over his knee.

 

“This is your first time at the Box, isn’t it?” Yancy said. As adorable as a nervous Chuck was, he did want to put him at ease a little.

 

Chuck nodded, picking up his glass and turning it around in his hand, the ice cubes clinking against the glass.

 

“So how did you get to know about this place?” Yancy continued. Surely he could get Chuck to utter a few words and talk about himself.

 

“I ah, searched online,” Chuck said, weaving a hand through his own hair. “These parties are kinda well-known in the community...”

 

Yancy smiled, his thumb running along the edge of his glass. “Yes, they are. And welcome to newcomers.”

 

Chuck’s face lit up, and he put down his drink. “That’s right,” he said. “That’s why I wanted to come here, because --”

 

He caught himself and paused, biting his lip in the most interesting way.

 

Yancy smiled. “You don’t have a lot of experience?” he ventured, cocking his head.

 

“None,” Chuck said, looking away.

 

“That’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Yancy said, leaning forward a little. “We all started out that way.” Gosh, Chuck was so gorgeous. And Yancy would love to give him some experience, to ease him into it, little by little. He’d be so beautiful.

 

The way Yancy was looking at him made Chuck’s stomach curl up in a weird way that was neither pleasant nor unpleasant. But everything here gave him odd, confused feelings.

 

“Just looking at everyone here, it’s…” Chuck mumbled. “Like… how are people able to do that?” He nodded towards one of the corners, casting a quick glance before turning back to Yancy.

 

Yancy followed Chuck’s gaze, and saw a couple at play. One of them was bound with her hands to an X-shaped cross at the wall, and the other was laying down a pattern of red stripes across her bottom and legs with a cane.

 

Yancy smiled at Chuck. “Because it’s something they want to do,” Yancy said. “And they trust each other to do it.”

 

Chuck squirmed on his seat, not sure if he was expressing himself right. Then again, he wasn’t even sure how he was feeling about any of it. At once apprehensive and curious, turned on and scared, aching and unsure.

 

Yancy could see Chuck’s mind reeling, and he reached out to take Chuck’s hand in his, giving it a small squeeze.

 

“It’s all right, Chuck,” Yancy said, with genuine concern. “You don’t have to dive in right away if you don’t want to. And playing in public isn’t for everyone.”

 

Chuck calmed down a little, a warmth spreading through him from Yancy’s hand holding his. His eyes met Yancy’s. And something about the way Yancy was looking at him made him want to push back.

 

“I’m not scared,” he said, and it had sounded more convincing in his head than out loud. He yanked his hand away from Yancy’s and immediately regretted breaking apart the small physical connection.

 

Yancy chuckled, plucked his drink off the table and sat back with his legs crossed, taking another swill of the green-colored liquid. Chuck’s indignation was cute in the face of his obvious nerves. “Are you sure? You looked scared for a second there.”

 

Chuck’s brow furrowed and he sat forward. Yancy noticed Chuck had stopped tapping his feet, and his hands had relaxed, one hanging loosely on his right knee and the other placed firmly on the sofa. “You saw wrong,” Chuck said.

 

Yancy couldn’t help but smirk. He put his glass down on the table, uncrossed his legs, and bent forward, putting his hand back on Chuck’s. This time, rather than a gentle squeeze, he casually scratched over Chuck’s knuckles with the nail of his thumb, paused, dug the nail in a little deeper and scratched again, leaving behind a swollen red line across the top of Chuck’s hand.

 

Chuck gasped audibly and glared at Yancy, his jaw set. But he didn’t move his hand. Yancy smiled, and turned Chuck’s hand around, palm facing upwards. He wrapped his fingers tightly around Chuck’s wrist, and placed his thumb in the soft middle of Chuck’s palm. Slowly, he pressed down, his nail digging into the skin.

 

Yancy met Chuck’s glare with his own intense gaze, waiting to see how Chuck would react.

 

Yancy’s tight grip on his wrist sent a dull throb through Chuck’s arm, and the nail digging into his palm caused a sharp pain to shoot out to his fingertips. Chuck wasn’t entirely sure what Yancy wanted him to do, but he wanted Yancy to do more. So he pushed his hand back against Yancy’s grip, struggled, and Yancy’s nail pressed down further. Chuck gasped again and when Yancy’s grip around his wrist tightened further he couldn’t suppress a shiver.

 

Yancy let go, sat back, and sipped his drink with a satisfied smile. He might have taken a bit of a risk there, but he had to see what Chuck would do, whether he’d push him away and walk off, or, well. This.

 

Chuck’s cheeks were flushed red, his lips were parted, and he glowered at Yancy, even more disgruntled than before.

 

Yancy let out a soft laugh. “It seems I _was_ wrong. You’re not afraid.” He stretched out an arm to Chuck and let his hand brush through the man’s ginger hair, then traced a finger across his jaw. “You’re something else entirely,” Yancy said.

 

When he’d come to the party Chuck hadn’t really known what to expect, but he hadn’t expected Yancy. For a short time he’d forgotten about the entire room around him, hadn’t heard the music, hadn’t seen the people. The imprints of Yancy’s nails on his hand still ached and when he shot a quick glance at his palm he saw a red half-moon mark embedded in the skin.

 

Yancy licked his lips. He wanted to push on further, but they did need to talk _some_ things through. He inched a bit closer to Chuck. As fun as engaging in a little playfulness was, they needed to be on the same page.

 

He tenderly cupped Chuck’s jaw in his hand, and locked eyes, keeping his gaze open and unassuming. “Chuck,” Yancy started. “Are you okay with what I’m doing?”

 

Chuck swallowed. This was different than before; rather than being pushed down he was asked to open up, and his nerves crept their way down his spine again. He nodded, barely. “Yeah.”

 

“Do you _like_ what I’m doing?” Yancy’s fingertips brushed over Chuck’s cheek, feeling the day’s stubble underneath and the warmth of Chuck’s deeply flushed skin.

 

“Yes,” Chuck said in barely more than a whisper. His heart was pounding in his chest. He craved something he couldn’t quite describe but he knew Yancy could help him.

 

The whole reason he was here in the first place was that he’d had this craving for so long, and always ignored it, thinking he was a freak for feeling that way. Until one day he was crashing at Mako’s place late at night and found some things in the guestroom closet that made him ask some real awkward questions the next morning. And of course Mako had answered those questions with absolutely zero shame and Chuck learned much more about her and her boyfriend than he ever cared to know. But it had sparked his interest, much in the way a lit match sparked a bushfire.

 

Yancy smiled, and leaned a little closer still. “Would you like me to do more?”

 

Chuck shivered. Yancy’s piercing eyes saw right through him, or they seemed to. Like there was no point to hiding anything. He bit his lip, opened his mouth, tried to speak, but found that his voice wouldn’t cooperate. So Chuck nodded, firmly.

 

Yancy shook his head. “You have to speak up, Chuck,” he said in a stern tone. Nodding was a signal easily missed, and Chuck had to learn to be vocal about what he wanted - and what he didn’t want.

 

“Yes,” Chuck finally managed. “Yes, I want you to do more.”

 

Yancy smiled. “Good boy,” he said, running his hand up Chuck’s cheek and through his hair.

 

At those words a heat blossomed up in Chuck’s chest. Yancy was pleased with him, and that made him feel ridiculously happy.

 

“Before we continue, we need to agree on some things,” Yancy said, pulling his hands away from Chuck, resting one arm loosely on the back of the sofa. “Do you have a safeword, Chuck?”

 

This, at least, Chuck knew. “Eureka,” he answered.

 

“Eureka,” Yancy repeated, committing the word to memory. “That’s a good safeword. And you know about the traffic light signals?”

 

Chuck got a little irritated. Sure, he didn’t have any experience, but he did do most of the required reading. “Green means okay, orange means not sure, red means stop,” he muttered.

 

“Okay,” Yancy said, ignoring Chuck’s attitude for the moment. He’d get plenty of opportunity to work on that later, after all. “Then… what would you want me to do to you?”

 

Chuck mumbled something incoherent and looked away again.

 

Chuck wasn’t the first novice Yancy had negotiated play with, so he gingerly placed a finger under Chuck’s chin and tilted his head back up, making eye contact.

 

“I didn’t hear what you said, Chuck,” Yancy said. “Remember, you have to speak up, or I won’t understand.”

 

Chuck bit his lip, not even sure what he said before, and not sure how to put into words the ache that thrummed in his veins.

 

“I... want it to hurt, yeah?” he eventually said.

 

Yancy nodded and kept his finger under Chuck’s chin, forcing Chuck to maintain eye contact instead of looking away. “You want me to spank you, Chuck?” Yancy said, smiling.

 

“Yeah,” Chuck said, a thrill shooting up his spine to the top of his head and back down. He figured he could still say no, he could still back out. But his craving was much stronger.

 

Yancy laughed, rising from his seat. “Very well,” he said, reaching out his hand to Chuck. “Come.”

 

Yancy led Chuck to one of the play corners. Chuck was aware that others would be able to see him, but he no longer cared. He felt intoxicated, his head was buzzing, his heart was pounding. He was really doing this, following Yancy, letting him take the lead. He knew Yancy understood what he wanted, perhaps better than he did himself.

 

Inside the corner there were several attributes already in place. A rope hung from the ceiling with leather cuffs attached, an X-shaped cross was mounted on one wall much like the one Chuck had seen in the other corner, and on the other side was a bench at about the height of his hips.

 

“Place your hands on the bench,” Yancy said, and Chuck complied. Yancy splayed out his hand on Chuck’s back and bent to him, lips on Chuck’s ear. “I have to go get some of my things,” Yancy said. “I want you to close your eyes and wait here. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Chuck whispered, the hoarseness in his voice betraying his arousal. He closed his eyes.  His excitement sharpened his senses, and he became aware of all the sounds in the room he hadn’t picked up on when Yancy was near. There were the unmistakable slaps, sighs and cries coming from the other corners; the humdrum of people talking and laughing to each other; the low continuous bass beat of the ambient music, loud enough to fill up the quiet, not too loud to drown out voices, or for that matter, flogging.

 

It seemed like a long time before Yancy returned. He heard the rushing of the curtain, the slight clack of Yancy’s boots on the floor. Chuck couldn’t help himself. “Took your time, did ya?” he said.

 

Behind him, Yancy grinned. In part because Chuck’s cockiness was adorable, much like the squeaking roar of a baby tiger, and in part because Chuck had known it was him even though Yancy hadn’t spoken a word.

 

“Are your eyes still closed, Chuck?” Yancy said. He knelt down and opened the suitcase he had brought with him, letting his eyes drift across the different attributes, wondering what to start with.

 

“Yeah, you told me, didn’t you?” Chuck said. “I can follow instructions.”

 

Yancy didn’t reply to Chuck’s remark. He rose to his feet, stood behind Chuck, worked open the clasps on the front of Chuck’s shirt and slid it off his shoulders, exposing his muscular back.

 

Yancy held back a sigh of appreciation at the sight of it. Chuck’s freckles cascaded from his neck down his shoulder blades, his muscles drawing a long valley down his spine. And his skin was still unmarked. Yancy admired it the way a painter might admire an empty canvas, itching to bring shape and color to the flawless base.

 

And he wasn’t done yet. Yancy’s hands unbuckled Chuck’s belt, undid the button and zipper on his pants, and tugged them down. Yancy grinned when he uncovered the leather thong Chuck was wearing. Whatever Chuck lacked in experience, he’d made up for in wardrobe choices. It didn’t escape Yancy’s attention that Chuck was already half hard, straining against the tight leather. And the thong fit neatly in the crack of Chuck’s gorgeous, firm, round ass. Which Yancy was sure would look even more amazing with marks and welts scattered over its soft skin.

 

Yancy stepped back, preferring to let Chuck do the rest, as he certainly wasn’t going to kneel to do it. “Take off your pants and boots,” Yancy commanded.

 

“What, you can’t do the rest yourself?” Chuck said as he complied, bending down to undo his boots and tug off the rest of this pants.

 

Yancy still didn’t react to Chuck’s obvious challenges. All in good time. With a measure of approval Yancy observed Chuck getting back up, placing his hands back on the bench, still with his eyes closed. Despite his attitude, Chuck had remembered Yancy’s earlier directions.

 

Yancy knelt down at the suitcase again, and his fingers wrapped around the handle of a medium-sized whip. It had a large bundle of long, broad, suede strokes fanning out from the sturdy leather handle. He rose to his feet and walked up behind Chuck, whip in hand.

 

Yancy raised the whip high above Chuck’s shoulders, letting the tips of the strokes fall between Chuck’s shoulder blades, and moved downwards at a slow pace. A wonderful shiver of anticipation ran down Chuck’s back.

 

Yancy bowed close, his lips brushing Chuck’s ear. “There are many things I can do to you myself, pet,” Yancy said. He took a large step back, wrapped his hand around the strokes of the whip, pulling them together. Then he swung his arm and lashed. The strokes of the whip hit Chuck’s rear with a full, satisfying smack, and the skin underneath quickly turned a soft red.

 

Chuck gasped, in surprise and in pleasure, which surprised him as well. The blow wasn’t painful, not the way he’d expected it to be. His skin turned warm and tingly in response, and he found the sensation enjoyable.

 

Yancy landed another strike on Chuck’s ass, this time from the opposite direction.

 

Chuck sighed, keenly anticipating the next blow. When it came, he moaned softly, his fingers curling into the leather of the bench he was leaning on. Yancy’s strikes were powerful enough to push him forward, so Chuck braced himself to stay in position. Another lash struck the back of his thighs, and Chuck couldn’t suppress a loud gasp. The thudding pain of every blow bloomed into a warm, pleasant glow that spread out all over his body.

 

Yancy began to swing his arm in a steady rhythm, spinning the whip in figures of eight, down to Chuck’s calves and back up to his ass. Chuck’s gasping and sighing delighted him; they wouldn’t sound the same way later on, when Chuck got used to it. Now, the noises Chuck made still had that edge of surprise and wonder to them. And Chuck’s reactions amused Yancy, as he knew what was next, and well, he did have a sadistic streak or he wouldn’t have a suitcase full of tools to cause pain. The blows he was inflicting on Chuck were done with a warming-up whip, meant to heat up the skin and increase the blood flow. Most masochist subs found the sensation pleasurable.

 

When Yancy was satisfied with every inch of Chuck’s ass and the back of his legs glowing red, he put the big soft whip down, and fished a single tail whip out of his suitcase. It was about time Chuck felt the consequences of his smart-ass remarks.

 

Once again, Yancy let the tip of the whip fall at the top of Chuck’s shoulders, then traced a path down his spine.

 

Chuck shivered; the shape and weight of this tool were much different. Certainly not a big bundle of softness. This time, he heard the upswing of the whip whisk through the air in Yancy’s hand. It flayed across his buttocks like fire, leaving behind a white-hot, sharp pain, and Chuck cried out, his eyes flying open.

 

Yancy lowered the whip. If it was too much for Chuck, now might be a time for him to signal. Then again, Chuck might be a bit overwhelmed already. “What is the traffic light color?” Yancy asked. Always better safe than sorry. Yancy wasn’t one of those fucked-up Doms who got off on ignoring boundaries.

 

Chuck gritted his teeth. Did Yancy think he was that weak? “Green, of course,” he breathed.

 

“Of course?” Yancy laughed. “Okay.” He raised the whip and swung his arm in a swift forward arc, resulting in a deep lash on Chuck’s ass, much meaner than the first one.

 

“Aah!” Chuck cried out, digging his nails into the bench. As soft and relaxing as the large whip had been, this one was sharp and infuriating.

 

“You say you can follow instructions, pet?” Yancy said.

 

“Yes,” Chuck hissed. “That’s what I said. Are you deaf?”

 

Behind Chuck’s back, Yancy grinned. Chuck wasn’t giving up his arrogance, not even with one of the meanest whips Yancy had in his arsenal. If anything, Chuck became more rude with every smack. It was kind of gratifying, and he wondered if Chuck could keep it up. Yancy had let previous backtalk slide, but this challenge couldn’t go unmet.

 

“I want you to count to ten,” Yancy said, and without further warning struck Chuck again.

 

Chuck yelped, the fierce lash burning on his sensitized skin. “One,” Chuck said. The second strike came quickly after and he dug his nails deeper into the bench. “Two!” Another blow struck him, swift and stinging. “Three,” Chuck whimpered. Yancy slowed down a little, and the next four lashes were less sharp, but nonetheless painful. Chuck’s legs were shaking, but Yancy wasn’t done. When the eighth blow seared across his buttocks, tears jumped into Chuck’s eyes. “Eight,” he sobbed. Scalding pain was shooting down through his legs.

 

“Traffic light,” Yancy said, panting from his own exertion. The single tail was difficult to handle right and easy to handle wrong. He was skilled with it, but it required focus and coordination.

 

“Green,” Chuck growled, but he was trembling all over. Yancy wasn’t convinced. “Traffic light color,” he repeated. “Green,” Chuck reiterated, steeling himself against the bench, taking a few deep breaths.

 

Yancy’s hand trailed over the whip again, and he lifted his arm.

 

“ _Nine_!” Chuck cried out. His knees were shaking.

 

Yancy’s hand was on his back, firm and reassuring. “Just one more, pet,” Yancy said, his voice low, his thumb rubbing a small circle at the base of Chuck’s spine. “You can take one more, can’t you?”

 

Chuck nodded, then remembered Yancy’s earlier warning. “Yeah,” he breathed, his chest heaving with the effort of containing the pain inside his body. A new word made its way up to his consciousness, fitting, necessary, and he yearned to speak it. “Yes, sir.”

 

The respectful address was unexpected, and Yancy’s heart ached with pride. His fingers stroked gently over the back of Chuck’s head, lingering. “Good boy,” Yancy said, his voice perhaps more shaky than he wanted it to be.

 

He stood back, first tracing a slow path across Chuck’s ass with the tip of the single tail whip. Chuck braced himself. The pull of air rang in his ears and when the piercing lash struck, he sobbed ‘ten' and his knees gave way, stumbling forward.

 

Yancy’s arms wrapped around him, holding him up, draping him carefully over the bench, stroking his hair.

 

“You did well, pet,” Yancy whispered. “I’m so proud of you.”

 

And at those words Chuck’s chest filled up with emotions he could barely name. He was smiling, laughing, even as tears welled up in his eyes. Endorphins coursed through his body like light, his head spinning. He couldn’t ever have imagined a spanking would feel this way, there weren’t any words for it. He just shook against Yancy, relishing in the warmth of Yancy’s arms, laughing. His earlier defenses washed away, and he was comforted and safe in Yancy’s embrace.

 

Chuck nuzzled his head into the crook of Yancy’s neck. “Thank you,” he whispered. He couldn’t describe it any other way. He had craved _something_ , so badly, and Yancy had given it to him, helped him, and he was _thankful_ for it.

 

Yancy continued to softly stroke Chuck’s hair, rubbing his shoulders and arms. Aftercare was important, too. “You’re so beautiful,” Yancy said.

 

In any other circumstance, Chuck would have protested. Now, he was euphoric, happy. He tilted his head, looking up at Yancy. “Thank you,” he repeated. Chuck was flooded with gratitude, and he  couldn’t say it enough. His eyes met Yancy’s and Chuck lifted his head up and kissed him.

 

They lingered in the kiss, lips pressed together, gentle and affectionate. After a while, Yancy broke the kiss and peeled Chuck off him. “Are you okay with walking for a bit?” Yancy said, still holding Chuck’s hand.

 

Chuck attempted a few wobbly steps forward, feeling his muscles ache and his skin burn under the movement. “I think so,” he ventured.

 

Yancy nodded. “Come,” he said, and he led Chuck out of the corner, to one of the couches nearby. The fact that he was nearly naked and people could see him didn’t even bother Chuck. On the contrary, he was happy, proud even, and eager to show it off. Pain and elation buzzed through him, along with a tangled bundle of emotions. “Lay on your stomach,” Yancy directed. Chuck complied, and as he stretched out over the sofa, Yancy went back to the corner to clean up. He took some cleaning spray and tissues from his suitcase, disinfecting the bench and the whips he’d used.

 

When he got back to the sofa, a gaggle of attendees had gathered around Chuck, and a pang of jealousy shot through Yancy. An emotion typically frowned upon in these circles. Chuck wasn’t his, they hadn’t agreed to any kind of relationship. But oh, did Yancy want them to.

 

The crowd parted a little when Yancy approached, and he received several compliments and jests for marking the newbie as well and fiercely as he had. It was Yancy’s turn to grin and bear it, as he wanted to protectively swat them all away from Chuck and carry his pet off to a quiet room, just the two of them.

 

Still, a glow of satisfaction flourished in his chest when he saw the pattern of bruises on Chuck’s rear and thighs, a full red haze from the large warming whip, contrasted with the intense red welts from the single tail, the middle of the lines already white from the swelling.

 

The drop after the high was different for everyone, so Yancy wasn’t going to part from Chuck’s side until he was sure Chuck was okay. Thankfully most of the crowd picked up on that and dispersed, though some of them continued to ogle the couple of handsome men from a distance.

 

Yancy sat on the table next to the sofa and ran his hands through Chuck’s hair. “How are you feeling, Chuck?” Yancy said, switching back to Chuck’s own name after play.

 

“‘m okay,” Chuck mumbled. His body ached everywhere, not just where Yancy had struck him, and the energy that had coursed through him before was seeping away little by little, leaving behind a heavy exhaustion.

 

“Want me to take care of you for a bit?” Yancy said, his hands massaging Chuck’s shoulders.

 

“Haven’t you done enough,” Chuck muttered, shooting a mock glare at Yancy.

 

Yancy grinned. Now that Chuck was floating back down, his attitude had come right back. “Not like that,” Yancy said. “Come, get up,” he added more sternly, reaching out a hand and lifting Chuck off the couch.

 

Yancy took Chuck to a smaller room, where the air was fresher and the light a little brighter. There was a sink, along with a collection of towels, and shelves with colorful bottles and tissues. And a mirror.

 

Chuck walked up to the mirror, turned around and looked at the damage.

 

“Wow,” he breathed. “Wow. Holy shit.”

 

“Looks good, doesn’t it?” Yancy said, coming up behind him.

 

“It’s… wow,” Chuck repeated. There was barely a patch of white skin left on his ass, and the welts were already turning into a deeper purple. And he was proud and happy, seeing how much he had been able to take. Seeing how much Yancy had marked him. Like… like he belonged to Yancy. A tightness welled up in his throat, and he swallowed, took a deep breath.

 

Yancy patted on the massage table in the middle of the room. “Lay down here,” he said.

 

“What are you going to do now?” Chuck drawled. He was coming off his high and his defenses were going back up. Still, he obeyed, much like he had done all night, and climbed onto the table, laying face down.

 

Yancy smiled. “Give you some much needed aftercare,” he said, walking to the sink at the side of the room. Yancy washed his hands and then took one of the towels from the rack and held it under the flow of cold water from the tap. “Don’t worry, this will feel nice,” Yancy said. “Just close your eyes.”

 

Chuck still wasn’t too sure, but he was worn out and his skin was still burning up, so he obeyed.

 

Chuck sighed when he felt the cold, wet, soft towel press against his hot damaged skin. Yancy patted him down tenderly, occasionally going back to the sink to pour fresh cold water over the towel. After a few patdowns, Yancy took one of the bottles from the shelves. Very gently, he poured some of its contents onto Chuck’s legs and ass.

 

The liquid was cool to the touch and smelled like a flower or herb Chuck couldn’t really place. “What’s that stuff?” he mumbled, his head resting on his crossed arms.

 

“A calendula healing balm,” Yancy explained. “So you’ll actually be able to sit down this week,” he added with a chuckle.

 

“Does it make the marks go away faster?” Chuck asked.

 

“Perhaps. Would you want them to?” Yancy replied, carefully running the tips of his fingers over Chuck’s lower body, massaging the balm into the tenderized skin. Yancy really was taking care of Chuck, but he wouldn’t deny that he loved this opportunity to get his own hands on Chuck’s ass, even more beautiful now that it was riddled with welts and bruises.

 

“Maybe not,” Chuck said. “I like the look of them.” He turned to the side a little, looking back at Yancy. “I like having your marks on me.”

 

Yancy trailed a finger up Chuck’s back, running his hand into Chuck’s hair. “Is that so,” Yancy said, feigning nonchalance, and quite badly at that.

 

“Yeah,” Chuck said, sitting up. He flinched when the weight of his body pressed his rear down on the table, a surge of pain flowing down his legs, but he ignored it.

 

“There are many others who could mark you,” Yancy said, looking away as he wiped the remainder of the balm off his hands with a towel. As badly as he wanted to make Chuck his, he knew Chuck had options available, he could be with anyone he wanted to. Considering how gorgeous he looked, the attention he’d gotten when stretched out on the sofa, Chuck really didn’t have to go for the first Dom he played with.

 

Chuck gritted his teeth. “Do you want others to mark me?” he said, offended at the suggestion.

 

“No,” Yancy said, despite knowing what the sensible answer would be. He stepped closer to Chuck, breathing heavily. The fingers of his right hand rested lightly on Chuck’s knee. Yancy shook his head, his eyes meeting Chuck’s. “No, I don’t.” In his own way, he was afraid of letting Chuck know how badly he wanted him.

 

Chuck’s hands grabbed hold of Yancy’s hips, pulling him closer, Chuck parting his legs to tug Yancy in between them. He looked up at Yancy, eyes wide and pleading and wanting.

 

“Yancy,” Chuck said. It was the first time he spoke Yancy’s name and Yancy loved hearing it from Chuck’s lips, with the lilt of Chuck’s Australian accent, his deep voice thick with desire. Yancy couldn’t recall anyone ever speaking his name that way.

 

“Yancy, I want _your_ marks on me. I want you to make me yours.” Chuck’s fingers squeezed Yancy’s hips, ever so slightly. “Please.”

 

Whatever common sense Yancy had been trying to hang on to, it melted away with Chuck’s plea. He wanted Chuck to be his so much it was making him feel ill; chest achingly, stomach twistingly ill.

 

Yancy cupped Chuck’s face in his hands, and Chuck lifted his own hands up to wrap around Yancy’s wrists. He rested his forehead against Chuck’s, their eyes locked together. “You’re mine,” Yancy whispered hoarsely. Chuck nodded. “Yeah,” he said, his voice barely more than a sigh.

 

Yancy tilted his head and kissed Chuck. First soft and slow, then he nudged his tongue in between Chuck’s lips and Chuck parted them, opened his mouth for Yancy to claim. And Yancy did, with tongue and lips and teeth, growling ‘mine’ in between kisses, his hands weaving into Chuck’s hair, yanking his head further back, and Chuck moaned against Yancy’s lips. Yancy broke the kiss and scraped his teeth down Chuck’s neck, sucking and biting, leaving one mark after another until he was satisfied with the scattered pattern of bites and bruises across Chuck’s neck and shoulders.

 

Chuck whimpered, his hips grinding towards Yancy. He was rock hard inside his leather thong and he’d bought the garment a bit too small on purpose so it would clasp tightly around him, loving the aching pressure it gave him. Yancy smiled, brought his hand down to Chuck’s crotch, and rubbed his palm against Chuck’s erection. Chuck shivered and looked up at Yancy, overwhelmed by his own urge to beg.

 

Yancy ran his thumb over Chuck’s bottom lip, and then slid his hands to Chuck’s sides and lifted him off the massage table. “Stay put,” Yancy said.

 

“Yes, sir,” Chuck breathed, and Yancy’s chest tightened at Chuck’s deference.

 

Yancy grabbed a small bottle of lube from the shelf, walked back to the table and fiddled with the gears underneath, setting it upright so it appeared to function like a large chair.

 

Yancy sat down on the uprighted table with one leg, leaning back whilst his other leg dangled off the side. His hand reached out to Chuck who immediately stepped closer, and Yancy curled his fingers under the rim of Chuck’s thong. “Take it off, pet,” Yancy said, and Chuck swiftly obeyed.

 

Yancy licked his lips when Chuck stripped down and freed his cock from its tight harness, throbbing and erect, beads of precum wetting the top. Yancy took the bottle of lube, and squeezed a bit on the upper thigh of the leg he had resting on the table. “Come sit,” he commanded to Chuck, patting his hip.

 

Chuck eagerly climbed onto the table, straddling Yancy’s slicked-up thigh. Chuck sighed when his dick rubbed over the slippery area, made all the more stimulating by the rough leather fabric underneath, and Yancy smiled. He slicked up two fingers and reached behind Chuck, thrusting them inside Chuck’s tight entrance. Chuck hissed, his ass still painful from the punishment it had taken earlier and Yancy’s fingers forcing him open fast.

 

“Come for me, pet,” Yancy said, his free hand reaching up to Chuck’s face and pressing his thumb on Chuck’s lower lip.

 

“Yes, sir,” Chuck moaned, and he began to rock back and forth, bending forward so his stomach pressed down on his dick, providing the pressure and friction he ached for. With every slide he pushed Yancy’s digits in and out himself, and he squirmed and whimpered, the pain of his still-burning cheeks mingling with the pleasure of his tight hole being stretched. He ached for more, for something bigger, but he knew he couldn’t have that, not yet. Yancy would make him earn it, and he already thirsted for that play, anxious about what Yancy would have him do, how far he could go, how much he would be marked.

 

Yancy watched Chuck’s submission to him unfold as he rode Yancy’s thigh, and Yancy couldn’t believe how amazing it was, how lucky he was to have met Chuck tonight, to have Chuck be his, begging and willing and so beautiful.

 

Yancy slid in a third digit and Chuck cried out, bucking against Yancy’s hand. “Thank you, sir,” Chuck panted, biting his lip, his eyes locked with Yancy’s. Yancy smiled. His other hand reached up to Chuck’s neck, his fingers wrapping around Chuck’s throat.

 

Yancy’s fingers curved and scissored inside Chuck, and Chuck could feel the orgasm building up inside him, all the way from his toes, a slow wave rolling up through his whole body. “I’m coming,” Chuck whimpered, and Yancy nodded, his grip on Chuck’s throat tightening. “Don’t come until I tell you to,” Yancy said.

 

Chuck nodded. “Yes, sir,” he groaned, his toes and fingers curling up, trying to hold it in. Yancy continued to slide his fingers in and out, keeping Chuck on the edge of climax until his body was shaking all over. “Please,” Chuck begged. “Please, sir, please, may I come.” His pleas turned into a stream of incoherent mumbling, and finally, Yancy loosened his grip on Chuck’s throat. “Come,” he said, pressing his fingers down hard on Chuck’s prostate.

 

And Chuck cried out, hips jerking forward, his orgasm racking his body and whiting out his vision, his seed spilling across Yancy’s leg. Chuck collapsed, falling forward as Yancy’s arms wrapped around him, still shivering as the waves of pleasure coursed through him and slowly abated. “Thank you,” Chuck whispered.

 

Yancy’s hand ran through Chuck’s hair, and he kissed Chuck’s forehead. “Good boy,” Yancy said, and glanced at his lower body. “You came so much.”

 

His arms wrapped tighter around Chuck. “You’re mine,” Yancy whispered.

  
  
  
  


 

 

Mako quietly observed Chuck over the rim of her super-sized cup of coffee, one eyebrow raised.

 

“What are you staring at,” Chuck protested.

 

“You haven’t told me how things went last week,” Mako said, the corner of her mouth twitching in a held back grin. It’s not like she couldn’t read Chuck’s body language and every inch of him reverberated with an energy all too familiar to her. But it was much more amusing to watch Chuck trying to fess it up.

  
“I noticed you have trouble sitting down,” Mako added, even less able to hold back her grin.

 

Chuck rolled his eyes. “Since when are you paying attention to how I’m sitting,” he muttered.

 

“Well, _someone_ paid attention to your ass,” Mako grinned, taking another gulp of her coffee.

 

“Shut up,” Chuck shot back.

 

“So, who is he?” Mako asked, leaning forward with her right elbow on the table, perching her chin on her palm.

 

“Who said it was a he,” Chuck said, stirring the spoon in his own coffee, which he hadn’t touched at all. He didn’t even know why he bothered to order something caffeinated, when he had so much energy in him he was practically bouncing through the roof.

 

“Oh, please,” Mako said, leaning into her hand. “If you swung my way I would’ve made you--”

 

“Okay, okay, okay, _god_ ,” Chuck interrupted her, really not eager for that mental image. “His name is Yancy.”

 

Mako’s coffee sprayed out of her nose.

 

“What now?!” Chuck exclaimed, wiping the flecks off his face. “Gross.”

 

Mako’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Tall, blonde, blue eyes, handsome?” she chuckled.. “Licks his lips a lot?”

 

Chuck glared, bending forward over the table. “ _How. do. you. know. that._ ” he hissed in a low voice.

 

Mako coughed, wiping her own face with a napkin, and then looked at Chuck with a straight face but a sparkle in her eyes. “Yancy is Raleigh’s brother.”

 

The look of absolute bafflement on Chuck’s face was definitely worth snorting hot coffee through her sinuses, Mako concluded.

 

“ _Your boyfriend’s brother,_ ” Chuck said, burying his face in his hands.

 

“I should’ve introduced you sooner, clearly,” Mako said, her cheeks dimpling in a happy grin.

 

Chuck slumped over the table. “Unbelievable,” he mumbled.

 

Mako ruffled Chuck’s hair. “Yancy’s a good guy, though,” she said. “A good Dom. Even taught me how to do some difficult ropework.”

 

Chuck perked up, a flush rising to his cheeks. “He knows ropework? The complicated stuff?”

 

Mako grinned and winked at Chuck. “Oh yes.”

 

Chuck bit his lip. “Maybe I’m gonna text him,” he said, already digging into his jeans for his phone.

 

“You do that,” Mako said, and sat back, finishing her big coffee.

  
  
  
  
  


 

 

“You’re unusually awake for this time of day,” Raleigh remarked, carrying a large box through Yancy’s apartment, putting it down at his desk. “Mako fixed your printer,” he added.

 

“That’s great, thanks,” Yancy mumbled from the couch, tapping away at his phone without looking up.

 

Raleigh leaned over Yancy’s shoulder. “Who’re you texting, huh?”

 

Yancy pulled his phone out of Raleigh’s vision. “No one, you nosy bastard,” Yancy said.

 

Raleigh gave Yancy a long stare, narrowing his eyes. “Something’s going on,” Raleigh said. “I can tell, because I’m your brother.”

 

“You’re full of it,” Yancy said, swatting Raleigh away.

 

“Then what’s this?” Raleigh said, plucking a nipple clamp out of the corner of the sofa. “Since when do you take your bunnies home, huh?”

 

Yancy took a swing at Raleigh trying to get the clamp out of his brother’s hand, but Raleigh jumped back, waving the thing over his head.

 

“Oooohh,” Raleigh exclaimed triumphantly, “I knew it!”

 

Yancy’s expression darkened. “Knock it off before I stuff that up your nose, dude,” he snapped.

 

“Touchy, touchy,” Raleigh said, handing the clamp over. “Must be serious.”

 

Yancy avoided Raleigh’s look. To his credit, Raleigh’s look was sympathetic, and he sat down on the sofa. He knew his brother’s history in love pretty well, and that was to say, there wasn’t any. The list of people Yancy had played with went on forever, but he’d never fallen for anyone. Never let himself, probably. He restrained his emotions as well as he restrained the bodies of his casual playmates. So seeing Yancy all bent out of shape like this was a new thing, a good thing, but also a bit unsettling.

 

“So talk to me,” Raleigh said. “Who are they?”

 

Yancy got up from the couch and began to pace around, hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I met him last week,” Yancy started. “At the Box.”

 

“Uh huh,” Raleigh said, leaning back and stretching his arms over the back of the sofa. Somehow, he’d always imagined Yancy would fall for a big-busted brunette babe, since that was the type he usually dated and played with. He did go out with guys too, but not that often. “So what’s he like?”

 

“He’s… he’s perfect,” Yancy said, turning around to face Raleigh, and Raleigh grinned when a blush crept up Yancy’s face. The guy his brother fell for must really be something.

 

“I was bored that night,” Yancy recalled, “Then this pretty ginger dude walks in, novice written all over him, so you know, you’re not supposed to hunt --”

 

“But you thought you’d welcome him,” Raleigh said, knowing his brother’s usual MO, shaking his head in disapproval.

 

Yancy continued to pace back and forth, his hands talking along. “And he opens his mouth and this Australian accent rolls off his tongue like --”

 

“Wait, ginger Australian?” Raleigh interrupted again, his eyebrows raising in surprise.

 

Yancy narrowed his eyes. “Yes. _...why?_ ” he asked, already suspicious, and he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

 

“Like this tall, this wide?” Raleigh gestured with his arms. “Eyes that can go from amused to I’m-going-to-punch-you in like 0.3 seconds, with the brow?” Raleigh gestured, making a face. “Hair like this? Kind of like an angry koala?”

 

“Pretty sure he hasn’t looked at _me_ that way,” Yancy said, glaring at his brother whose description of Chuck was much too accurate. Though the angry koala part was completely off the mark as far as Yancy was concerned.

 

A wide grin spread across Raleigh’s face. “Oh my god you fell for _Chuck!?_ ” he said, bursting into laughter.

 

“Yes and _how do you know Chuck_ ,” Yancy growled, not at _all_ amused with Raleigh’s reaction.

 

“He’s Mako’s best friend,” Raleigh said, still wheezing and wiping the tears from his eyes. “Jesus Yancy, you have the weirdest taste in subs _ever_.”

 

Yancy grabbed Raleigh by the collar and lifted him off the couch. “ _Start talking, Rals_ ,” Yancy hissed, his mood not improving at all. “Did Mako ever--”

 

Raleigh waved his hands in defense. “Dude, no,” Raleigh said. “Chuck’s as gay as a rainbow full of unicorns.”

 

Yancy couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Yeah, okay, can’t argue with that,” Yancy admitted, but didn’t let Raleigh go. “And what the hell is so weird about him, huh?”

 

“You mean besides mispronouncing my name like _all_ the time and mocking my wardrobe and having a stupid sense of humor at my expense,” Raleigh rattled off, and much to his surprise Yancy dropped him and grinned.

 

“You’re such a moron,” Yancy said. “That’s just Chuck’s way of showing he cares. Approves of you and Mako. Well, except for the fashion criticism. Your sweaters are pretty awful.”

 

“Seriously?” Raleigh straightened his clothes, and his brow furrowed in disbelief. “See, that’s what I’m saying, he’s got a weird way of showing it. And I like my choice in sweaters, thanks.”

 

“He behaves around me,” Yancy grinned, walking to the kitchen and opening the fridge.

 

“Oh, I’m sure,” Raleigh said, following Yancy and rolling his eyes. “Do _not_ want to know, thanks.”

 

“Don’t worry,” Yancy said, tossing Raleigh a can of coke, and grabbing a bottle of ice tea himself. “Besides, I understand I have you and Mako to thank for Chuck even showing up at the Box.” Yancy leaned against the kitchen counter and took a swig from the bottle.

 

Raleigh opened the can with a hiss and sipped at the foam that bubbled over the edge. “Yeah, apparently he drunkenly stumbled into our toy closet when crashing at Mako’s,” he said. “Imagine her explaining to Chuck what the eight-inch strap-on is for--”

 

“ _Dude_ ,” Yancy said, facepalming. “I can do without that mental image.”

 

Raleigh had a stupid smirk on his face, and put the coke down on the counter. “Kidding aside, I’m happy for you, Yance,” he said, clasping his brother’s shoulder with a firm squeeze. “Thanks, Rals,” Yancy replied with a smile.

 

A soft buzz interrupted their brother-to-brother moment. Yancy fished his phone out of his back pocket, tapping away the buzzer and reading the text. “It’s been great sharing and caring with you, but I’ve got someone coming over tonight and a few dozen yards of hemp rope to prepare,” he grinned, looking up at Raleigh.

 

Raleigh didn’t have to ask who that someone was, judging from how goofily happy Yancy’s grin was.

  
  
  


 

 

Yancy was pacing back and forth, nervously checking his watch, imagining all the ways he could punish Chuck if he was late. Except that Chuck was right on time when he knocked on the door, and Yancy had gotten ready so early he didn’t know what to do with himself for the rest of the hour.

 

When Yancy opened the door Chuck’s arms wrapped around his torso before Yancy even had a chance to speak.

 

“Hey,” Chuck said, his voice muffled against the soft fabric of Yancy’s blouse. “I missed you.”

 

Yancy ran his hands through Chuck’s hair, pulling him closer. “Me too.”

 


	2. A Chorus So Sublime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck wants to please Yancy, but he'll have to earn it, first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second installment of the BDSM Chancy fic! This one goes further into scene play and Yancy and Chuck's D/s relationship.
> 
> Beta'd by the wonderful [likeappletrees](http://archiveofourown.org/users/likeappletrees) <3

Yancy’s hand twined absent-mindedly through Chuck’s hair, his other hand on the remote, flipping channels on the TV. It was early in the evening and they’d just had dinner. There wasn’t a whole lot on and they could watch a movie, but he wasn’t eager to get up from the sofa with Chuck adorably curled halfway over his chest, head nestled in Yancy’s armpit. He could swear Chuck was purring. Yancy made a mental note to renew his Netflix subscription to prevent this situation in the future.

 

He nudged his arm at Chuck. “Hey, what do you want to watch?” Yancy said.

 

Chuck made a disgruntled noise and looked up. “I don’t know, what do _you_ want to watch?” he mumbled.

 

“Maybe an action movie or something,” Yancy said with little enthusiasm in his voice.

 

Chuck’s fingers drummed lightly over Yancy’s chest. “Or we could do something else,” Chuck said. He looked up at Yancy, a smile playing across his lips, even though his eyes were still heavy-lidded with sleep.

 

Yancy glanced down at Chuck, raising his eyebrow. “Oh? Like what?” he said playfully, hardly ignorant of what Chuck had in mind. He was a bit surprised, since Chuck had come over tired and complaining about a long day at college, and Yancy figured they would have a cuddly night on the couch.

 

Chuck sat up, biting his lip. “You know, that thing we talked about,” he said.

 

“We talk about lots of things,” Yancy said pointedly. Chuck still wasn’t used to vocalizing his desires clearly, which was kind of adorable, if a little frustrating. Chuck only made up for it with the delicious blush that blossomed on his cheeks when he put what he wanted into words.

 

Chuck’s hand slid up Yancy’s thigh. “I want to… please you,” Chuck said.

 

“Go on,” Yancy said. It was fun making Chuck do dirty talk. For all his lascivious fantasies, Chuck had more trouble saying them out loud than acting them out.

 

“I want you to use my mouth,” Chuck managed, his ears burning something fierce.

 

Yancy smiled, cupping Chuck’s jaw, running his thumb over Chuck’ s lower lip. “You want my cock in your mouth, pet?” Yancy said, effortlessly switching gears into their play talk.

 

Chuck nodded against Yancy’s hand, but then caught himself. “Yeah,” he said.

 

Yancy’s hand pinched Chuck’s jaw, nails digging lightly into his skin. Yancy raised his eyebrows a little.

 

Chuck blushed. “Yes, sir,” he uttered, casting his eyes downward. It still took him some effort to slip into that other state of mind. Yancy was patient with him, always, attentive and thoughtful. It still didn’t make sense to him how Yancy could be so attuned to what Chuck wanted, what he needed. A tightness coiled up from his chest to his throat and he looked up at Yancy, gratitude and want overwhelming him.

 

The intensity of Chuck’s gaze washed over him and Yancy couldn’t help but answer, and he leaned forward as he pulled Chuck towards him, pressing his lips against Chuck’s. Yancy’s hand ran into Chuck’s hair and Chuck parted his lips, playfully sucking in Yancy’s tongue and circling his own tongue around it. It was a bit more forward than Yancy might have allowed him to, but for the moment he didn’t mind, and he let Chuck eagerly taste and explore his mouth.

 

Finally, Yancy’s hand slid down to Chuck’s throat, and Chuck promptly let go, his lips reddened and his eyes filled with yearning.

 

“You’re asking for a big reward, pet,” Yancy said, his index finger casually drawing circles on the edge of Chuck’s jaw.

 

Chuck knew as much, and he thirsted for the pain he’d have to bear. He didn’t even quite know what he wanted more: Yancy’s heavy, swollen dick between his lips or the thudding and searing pain he knew Yancy could give him. He was already reeling with desire for both, half-hard and throbbing in his jeans.

 

“Tell me what to do,” Chuck said, his fingers curling over Yancy’s hips. “Please, I want to deserve it.”

 

Yancy rose from the sofa, his hand still on Chuck’s jaw.

 

“I want you to clean yourself out, pet,” Yancy said. “I will come for you in an hour.” He leaned forward, placing a light kiss on Chuck’s lips.

 

Yancy had expected Chuck to ask this for a while now, and had done some prep work. Earlier that month they’d talked through and mapped out their lists of wants and don’t wants together, with Chuck squirming and blushing the whole time. It had been quite difficult to stay on topic and not go right from theory to practice, but now Yancy had a pretty good idea of what was okay for Chuck and what wasn’t.

 

After the hour was up, Yancy went back to the lower floor of his maisonette apartment to fetch Chuck. He was pleased to find him kneeling on the carpet in the living room wearing a bathrobe and most likely nothing underneath. Yancy walked up to Chuck, ruffled his hair and placed a kiss on his forehead.

 

“Come, pet,” Yancy said, reaching out his hand to lift Chuck off the floor.

 

Chuck had cleaned himself extra thoroughly tonight, not sure what Yancy had in mind for him. Preparing himself inside and out made him feel more subservient and it was something Yancy had insisted upon after they’d talked their lists through. He’d told Chuck to take the time to not only prepare physically but mentally as well; to repeat his safeword and go through their agreement. It had become a ritual for Chuck, thinking about what Yancy would do to him, making his body ready for his Dom.

 

While Chuck had cleaned himself Yancy had changed his outfit as well. He was wearing the same leather boots with the clacking steel soles from the night they first met, a pair of leather pants with a detail of metal rings and cloth cords, and a leather waistcoat. The coat made Yancy’s waist seem slimmer and his arms and shoulders all the more wider, and Chuck loved that strong look on him. Like Yancy could wrestle him to the ground with the lightest nudge of his shoulders.

 

Yancy led Chuck up to one of the top floor playrooms he’d built, and paused before the door.

 

“Close your eyes,” Yancy said, and took a blindfold out of his pocket. It was made out of soft, black leather, covered the cheekbones as well as the eyes and had a small opening at the nose to breathe through. It was comfortable to wear for a longer period of time, and fully obscured the wearer’s sight.

 

Chuck gasped when he sensed the press of the fabric over his nose and eyes. He loved not being able to see what was happening, having to rely only on his other senses.

 

Yancy secured the blindfold and opened the door, carefully leading Chuck inside with both hands.

 

Yancy had converted two of the rooms in his apartment into playrooms, each with a certain theme. This room had more of a basement dungeon atmosphere to it, despite being on the top floor. The bricks of the wall were exposed rather than painted over with plaster, and the floor was stripped to its cement foundation. Chains, hooks and rings were affixed to the floor, walls and ceiling, allowing for elaborate suspension bondage. The lighting was harsher, making bruises and lashes stand out even more against unblemished skin, and the room was colder in temperature. There were two large tables in the room, one with assorted whips, crops, canes, paddles and other spanking tools, and a set of spreader bars; the other table was filled with various clamps, weights, clothespins, bottles of lube, candles, buttplugs, cuffs, gags and more. There was also a large, sturdy bondage chair at the other side of the room, with flexible arm and leg seats and various hooks to attach ropes and cuffs to. Finally, there was an impressive black leather Chesterfield-style chair, clearly meant for only Yancy to sit on.

 

The other room was a great deal more comfortable, with a large bed and a soft carpet, dimmer lighting and better heating. It held fewer large toys, but had a bigger collection of smaller clamps, cuffs and plugs. It’s where they went when they wanted lighter, more romantic play, or when Yancy wanted to reward Chuck. It’s usually where they settled down after an intensive session. Honestly, Yancy always wanted to reward Chuck, and whatever lack of discipline Chuck showed he blamed himself for being too tolerant. And Chuck’s reward today might be as much a lesson in discipline for Yancy himself as for his sub. He ached to feel Chuck’s mouth wrap around his dick, but he knew he had to make Chuck earn it. If only because Chuck wouldn’t even accept it otherwise.

 

A large hook with a pulley hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room with many yards of hemp rope running through it. Yancy led Chuck to stand right underneath and the ropes brushed over Chuck’s skin. Chuck shuddered in response, the corners of his mouth curving upwards. He loved being up in the ropes, exposed and helpless, and if that’s what Yancy had planned he was definitely looking forward to it.

 

Yancy’s hands wrapped around Chuck’s torso, his deft practiced fingers untying the single knot in the bathrobe with swift movements. Chuck was going dizzy with Yancy being so close to him, his scent a masculine mix of leather, sweat and musk. Yancy’s hands trailed up to Chuck’s shoulders and slid off the bathrobe, stripping Chuck naked. Yancy’s breath was on his ear, Yancy’s nails scraped down his back, and Chuck bit back a moan. The anticipation was making him tremble and the slightest touch from Yancy sent goosebumps across his skin.

 

Yancy’s lips pressed against Chuck’s neck. “Are you ready, pet?” Yancy whispered.

 

“Yes, sir,” Chuck sighed, another shiver running through his body.

 

“Raise your hands,” Yancy commanded. Chuck obeyed, reaching his arms behind his head, keeping his wrists together.

 

Yancy stood behind Chuck, took a long strand of rope and expertly tied Chuck’s wrists together, making sure that his weight was carried across both his hands and the ropes didn’t cut off circulation. When he was satisfied with the knots he tied the wrist bonds to the rope on the pulley and lifted Chuck up until he stood on the flats of his toes. Yancy fastened the end of the pulley’s rope to a hook on the wall, making sure that Chuck wouldn’t fall down.

 

Chuck already made such a beautiful picture, stretched out, arms high, his shoulder and abdominal muscles rippling into sculpted hips, freckles scattered all over his arms and back, ginger chest hair trailing down into darker, curling pubes that surrounded a half-hard uncircumcised cock. Yancy’s gaze drifted up and down Chuck’s body, taking in every inch of his gorgeous partner. His submissive. Yancy still couldn’t believe he’d found both in the same person.

 

Yancy walked to the table of smaller toys, letting his eyes and mind wander over the many possibilities to warm Chuck up, and his gaze eventually rested on a pair of prickly-looking gloves. Vampire gloves, the fabric lined with small barbs, offering an interesting blend of massage and pain. He hadn’t used them on Chuck yet. Yancy still loved Chuck’s reactions to new sensations, and no doubt he’d make wonderful sounds when worked over with the gloves.

 

Yancy put on the gloves and approached Chuck, standing behind him.

 

“Tell me what you want, pet,” Yancy said, placing the gloves on Chuck’s shoulder blades. They didn’t hurt yet, this way, so Chuck would just have to guess what was happening.

 

“I want your cock in my mouth, sir,” Chuck gasped, less shy about it than he’d been on the couch.

 

Yancy slid his hands down Chuck’s back, leaving behind a red flush. “Ohhh, " Chuck purred. This was new, and wonderful. It glowed and stung at the same time.

 

Yancy smiled. Chuck’s reaction was much what he'd been hoping for. He pushed his hands back up, more pressure this time, and Chuck whimpered, the sharpness mixed with the nearness of Yancy’s touch confusing his senses.

 

Yancy began to rub Chuck’s back in large circles, the gloves leaving behind reddened skin, small red spots scattered across where the tiny spikes had penetrated the upper skin layer. When Yancy was satisfied with the coloration of Chuck’s back, he slid the gloves down to Chuck’s ass, and was met with a soft cry from Chuck.

 

“What is it, pet?" Yancy said, pausing just as his hands cupped Chuck’s butt cheeks.

 

“It’s so good,” Chuck whimpered. The skin on his back was on fire after Yancy’s treatment, hot and stinging, and it was making his head spin. It hurt, and he wanted more, and when Yancy moved away from his back Chuck realized Yancy might use the gloves on his entire body and that made him shiver with anticipation.

 

Yancy chuckled, enamored by Chuck’s honest reaction. “You like the gloves, don’t you?” He pressed down harder and massaged Chuck’s buttocks in circles, painting his skin with red blotches.

 

Chuck moaned, arching his back. It was one thing to have his back worked on, but the spiked gloves and Yancy’s hands on his ass made desire surge up through him like wildfire. He wanted Yancy to hurt him and tear him open and fuck him and he bucked against Yancy’s hands, groaning loudly.

 

Yancy had initially planned to run the gloves over Chuck’s entire body, but Chuck reacted much more intensely than he’d expected. He’d have to cut it short.

 

With one fierce swipe, Yancy ran his hands down Chuck’s legs and up again, pressing hard. Chuck yelped, the sensations from the gloves going from pleasant to definitely unpleasant. Yancy smiled when the miniscule red lines and specks from the barbs lit up on Chuck’s pale skin.

 

He’d gone too far, Chuck realized. He wasn’t supposed to enjoy it this much. His reward came later, not now. Yancy’s hands slid to his sides.

 

“Please,” Chuck breathed.

 

“What’s that, pet?” Yancy said, noting the distinct lack of address. He pushed the gloves to Chuck’s skin and then swooped down Chuck’s sides and up again. His sides were way sensitive and Chuck instinctively trashed against the restraints on his wrists. “Fuck,” Chuck hissed. A sense of frustration began to simmer under his skin, a petulant anger at not being allowed to enjoy what he wanted. The skin on his sides went aflame and he let out a low growling noise.

 

It occurred to Yancy that Chuck was a lot like a cat. He was fine with being petted, even roughly, right up until he wasn’t, and then he went from adorable kitten to hissing feline. Of course, the averagedomestic cat would respond extremely poorly to being held down and punished. And Yancy liked to think that if Chuck’s play partner was anyone else, Chuck would probably do just that. But he was Yancy, and Chuck was his, and he knew how to handle his pissed off tomcat.

 

Yancy’s hand flew up to Chuck’s throat, the vampire gloves still on, and squeezed tight. “That wasn’t very nice of you, pet,” Yancy said, his voice low and threatening. “After I treated you so well, too. Is that how you show your gratitude?”

 

Chuck shuddered against Yancy’s grasp, still angry, increasingly more so at himself than at Yancy. He’d enjoyed it too much, and then he’d cursed and growled at his Dom. Chuck was embarrassed and then even more frustrated over his own embarrassment. His emotions were tangling up in his belly. Was Yancy even going to give him the reward he’d asked for, after he’d behaved so badly? The disappointment welled up inside him, quickly followed by another bout of anger over his own stupidity.

 

Yancy let go of Chuck and there was a short pause, where Chuck sensed Yancy was still close to him. Then Yancy’s hands were reaching behind his head, the gloves off, and undoing the blindfold.

 

When their eyes met, Yancy saw the desperation in Chuck’s eyes, the mess of emotions Chuck had brought onto himself.

 

This was why Chuck needed him. The boy always made things too complicated inside his own mind.

 

Yancy’s hand cupped Chuck’s jaw and then slid upwards, brushing his hair aside. “Pet,” he simply said, lacing disappointment into his voice.

 

Chuck’s chest ached with emotions he couldn’t put into words. His lower lip trembled. “I’m sorry,” he managed.

 

Yancy nodded. “You know what I have to do,” he said, releasing Chuck and stepping back.

 

Chuck took a deep breath, and then let it go. “Yeah,” he said.

 

Chuck’s deference to Yancy was gone, lost in his jumble of emotions. More than Chuck’s growling, that’s what really stung Yancy, and he couldn’t let it slide if he wanted to. And he very much didn’t want to.

 

Yancy placed the gloves back on the table, and then took two loose strands of rope, each about two yards in length. He wound one of the strands around Chuck’s right ankle in parallel bands and tied a knot to secure it there. Yancy then fastened the rope to a hook on the floor with another knot, making sure to pull Chuck’s leg nearly as far to the right as it would go, allowing just a little leeway for circulation. Then he did the same to Chuck’s left ankle and a hook at the other side. Finally, Yancy walked to the hook on the wall where he’d fastened the rope that held Chuck’s wrists, and pulled it down a bit further, causing Chuck to be lifted higher.

 

After Yancy was done double-checking all the knots and the blood flow to Chuck’s hands and feet, he stood back and admired his handiwork. Chuck was only barely balancing on the tips of his toes, his body stretched out about as high and wide as it would go. This spanking wasn’t going to be comfortable for Chuck; his body was pulled taut, not being able to convert the force of the blows into outward momentum. The hits would be a lot more painful.

 

Chuck gave Yancy a pleading look, but didn’t say anything. He knew he deserved this for how he acted. What Chuck didn’t quite understand about himself, and Yancy did, was that the whole reason he acted out to begin with was to get a rougher treatment.

 

Yancy picked up a ball gag and a bracelet with a red button off the table. He first secured the bracelet around Chuck’s left wrist, and then gagged Chuck, pressing the large red ball between his teeth. Saliva quickly pooled in Chuck’s mouth and began to drip onto his chin out of the corners.

 

“Do you remember the use of the bracelet, pet?” Yancy asked.

 

Chuck nodded, hissing a ‘yes, sir’ against the gag, the words coming out muffled and lisped, causing more saliva to dribble out of his mouth.

 

“Let me hear the sounds for green, orange and red,” Yancy said.

 

Chuck pressed the button on the wristband with his thumb. He needed to use enough force and twist his thumb just so, so he wouldn’t tap the button without intending to. Green was a light, soft buzz; orange two soft buzzes; and red two loud, insistent buzzes.

 

“Very good,” Yancy said. He’d come up with the buzzer many years ago, after he’d played with a sub who hadn’t signalled well enough with a gag in, unable to speak and forgetting hand and humming signals in the middle of an intense session. He’d been able to break the scene off by repeatedly asking her the same questions, but not before they’d gone too far. It hadn’t been a good experience for either of them, even though Yancy had tried his best at aftercare, her defenses had gone up full force after that. And he didn’t blame her. All he could do was learn from it and do better.

With the buzzer it was easy to signal without needing words, whilst the discomfort of the gag wasn’t diminished.

 

“Let me hear the sound of your safeword,” Yancy continued.

 

Chuck pressed the button down hard and a long, loud ringing tone filled the room.

 

“Well done,” Yancy said. He took the blindfold out of his pocket and approached Chuck with it. Chuck was relieved when Yancy put the mask back on, letting out a long sigh. It wasn’t lost on Yancy, who ran his hands through Chuck’s hair in response. Chuck leaned into his touch with a soft whimper.

 

“You understand why I have to discipline you, don’t you, pet?” Yancy said. Chuck nodded against Yancy’s hand. “But you’re strong,” Yancy continued, stroking Chuck’s cheek with a finger. He leaned in close, pressing his forehead against Chuck’s. “Make me proud, baby, and you’ll get your reward,” Yancy whispered.

 

Chuck shuddered against his restraints. “Thank you, sir,” he lisped, another trickle of saliva running down his chin.

 

Yancy walked to the table of spanking tools, and reached for a large wooden paddle, about half an inch thick, two feet long and four inches wide. It had a long gap running through the middle, allowing the wielder to swing it in full force without meeting too much air resistance. It didn’t look very impressive, but its blows were heavy.

 

Yancy took a deep breath, running his fingers over the surface of the paddle. He hadn’t used a tool this intense on Chuck yet, not for play, and even though they talked about it and Chuck was curious, Yancy was still wary of using it.

 

He approached Chuck again, and placed the flat surface of the paddle against Chuck’s shoulder blades, dragging it down until it rested on his rear. This was how he typically introduced what he was going to use, and the hitch of Chuck’s breath when he recognised the paddle didn’t slip past Yancy’s notice. He’d shown Chuck his arsenal and explained what everything did after they'd gone through their lists. Occasionally, Chuck would have insisted on Yancy using the tools on him so he knew what it felt like. Being curious about the paddle, Chuck had asked to feel its impact as well. And it was intense. He knew what it could do, and he shivered in his bindings.

 

“You’ve failed to address me properly four times,” Yancy said. “I want you to count each time, and say thank you, sir.”

 

“Yes, sir,” Chuck replied. The saliva was running down his neck and chest. His body was stretched to all directions, his muscles aching, and he braced himself. He was afraid, but deep down he wanted this, and perhaps that scared him more.

 

Chuck sensed the pull of air behind him on his skin, and then the paddle hit with a loud smack and Chuck bit down on the gag with a scream, grateful for its presence between his teeth. A white flash of pain shot out from his behind to his limbs, too intense to contain anywhere, and Chuck surrendered to it, letting it shake him, thrashing in his restraints.

 

“One,” Chuck grunted when he recovered from the blow. “Thank you, sir.”

 

Yancy allowed Chuck a few deep breaths. Using this tool required concentrated movement with his entire body. If he hit Chuck too high or too low he risked causing serious injury, and Yancy needed to refocus between strikes.

 

The pain of the second blow racked through Chuck’s body and he let out a loud cry, tears jumping into his eyes. Again he surrendered to the sensations that coursed through his body, this time taking the form of a red wave that burst through him, almost suffocating. “Two,” he hissed through the gag. “Thank you, sir.”

 

Yancy knew these blows were amongst the strongest, most painful he could dole out, and he felt bad for putting Chuck through it. But he knew it was something he had to do. In a way, Chuck wasn’t expecting any less. It was a play for both of them, testing Yancy’s conviction as much as Chuck’s pain tolerance.

 

The third blow made Chuck scream into the gag again, and his entire body convulsed, his vision shooting full of white flecks.

 

“Three,” Chuck gasped into the gag, gulping for air through the obstruction. “Thank you, sir.”

 

Chuck’s body was shaking, and Yancy wanted to step forward, run his hands over Chuck’s back and through his hair, comfort him. But he couldn’t, not yet.

 

Chuck started to feel light-headed, his skin prickling, and a pulse ran from the top of his head down his back, igniting a strong throb between his legs. He knew he was hard, and bewildered at how that was possible.

 

The fourth and last blow hit him and the pain bloomed like a cloud, overwhelming all of his senses, and tears flowed freely from his eyes, pooling at the edge of the mask before cascading down his cheeks.

 

“Four,” Chuck sobbed. “Thank you, sir.”

 

Yancy dropped the paddle, grabbed a towel from the table and in less than a second he was next to Chuck, taking off his gag and mask and wiping his face and chest clean. “Good boy,” Yancy said in a shaky voice, caressing Chuck’s cheek. “You did well.”

 

Chuck tried to make out Yancy’s face, but his vision was still hazy from tears. The pain and pleasure throbbed in his body, pulsating, sending out waves of dizziness and euphoria. A thick, warm sensation rolled down his spine, and the most intense sense of relief washed over him, clearing his mind, untangling the tight bundle he’d been holding in his chest.

 

Yancy saw the endorphin high overcome Chuck, and he smiled. He was so impressed with how much Chuck could handle, and his heart ached at seeing the bliss on Chuck’s face.

 

Yancy walked to one of the cabinets in the room and took out a thick futon mattress, which he rolled out underneath Chuck. Whilst Chuck was still reeling with endorphins Yancy moved quickly, untying the rope that lifted Chuck up, loosening it very gradually so Chuck wouldn’t fall over. Chuck first sagged to his knees and then, sensing the soft fabric underneath, he curled forward, stretching across the thin mattress as much as he could with his ankles still tied up.

 

Yancy walked back to Chuck and loosened the knots on the floor hooks so Chuck had more freedom to move around, but didn’t untie them. Chuck’s legs curled up as soon as the ropes on his ankles lost their grip on him, and Yancy swore he could hear Chuck purr.

 

He knelt down next to Chuck and untied the rope cuffs on his hands, taking off the buzzer bracelet in the process. Chuck rolled to his side as much as he could and looked up at Yancy. "Thank you, sir," he said with a big smile. Yancy bowed down and stroked Chuck’s hair, smiling.

 

 

 

As Chuck slowly drifted back down from cloud nine, it dawned on him that they weren't done. He'd received the punishment for his insolence, but hadn't deserved his reward yet. He looked around, his eyes searching for Yancy, and found him sitting in a chair, gazing at him. Yancy was lazily stroking himself, hand wrapped around his dick, eyes locking with Chuck’s, and he smirked. Chuck’s mouth watered and he parted his lips, his tongue aching to taste Yancy. He crawled forward and was promptly held back by the restraints still on his ankles.

 

Yancy grinned and got up from his seat, his hand still gripping his length. “You want this, don't you, pet?"

 

"Oh please sir," Chuck whimpered, any shame or inhibitions he'd had washed away by the spanking and how much he craved Yancy. "Please, I want you to use my mouth, sir." Chuck squirmed around on the futon, biting his lip, looking up at Yancy with pleading eyes, dark with lust.

 

“Get up on your elbows and knees, pet,” Yancy said, and Chuck swiftly obeyed, his eyes transfixed on Yancy’s dick, rising proudly out of the opening in his tight leather pants. The piece of clothing was made so that the wearer could whip out their cock without having to take the pants off and without having to rub against the metal of a zipper. Yancy’s erection jutting out of his pants, large and swollen whilst he was still fully clothed otherwise, only served to further assert his dominance.

 

Yancy’s hand ran up Chuck’s spine, up to his head, pushing it down between Chuck’s arms. He went to one of the tables and picked up a firm, average-sized cane. When he turned back to Chuck, Yancy stopped in his tracks, his breath taken away by the gorgeous, arousing sight of Chuck on his elbows and knees, his thighs still pulled apart by the ankle restraints and his punished ass sticking up in the air, glowing bright red under the harsh white light.

 

Yancy bowed down over Chuck and tapped his calves lightly with the cane, from one leg to the other, from the back of the knees to Chuck’s ankles and back up, leaving a pattern of parallel lines.

 

Chuck sighed, this treatment much more pleasant than the spanking with the paddle. The pain was just sharp enough to grab his attention, but not searing, and he let himself be carried along with the rhythmic thrum of the cane on his skin.

 

Yancy smiled as he saw Chuck’s toes curl into the futon under the attention of the cane, and he reached over to run his hand through Chuck’s hair. “Good boy," Yancy said, and Chuck purred in response, lifting his head as far as he figured he was allowed to meet Yancy’s touch.

 

Yancy moved his attention lower, bringing the cane down on the soles of Chuck’s feet, and to his satisfaction Chuck jumped a little, stifling a cry. Chuck’s toes twitched and tensed as Yancy brought the cane down on the sensitive underside of Chuck’s feet with increasingly sharp strikes, until Chuck let out a long whine.

 

Yancy ran his hand up Chuck’s legs and thighs, resting it on Chuck’s still fiercely reddened ass. “How do you like the cane, pet?” Yancy asked.

 

“I like it very much, sir,” Chuck panted. The cane on his feet tickled and hurt at the same time, and the combined sensation was a good kind of pain, the kind that made him smile and squirm.

 

Yancy ran his hand in between Chuck’s ass cheeks, and Chuck gasped when Yancy’s middle finger pressed against his tight opening. “Ohh, thank you, sir,” Chuck purred when Yancy’s finger slid inside, the lack of lube lending a pleasant burn to the invasion.

 

Yancy’s middle finger curved down and rubbed firmly against Chuck’s prostate just as Yancy smacked the cane down hard on Chuck’s left foot, and Chuck cried out, shuddering from the mix of pleasure and pain coursing through his body. Yancy repeated his actions, striking Chuck’s right foot with the cane as he ran his finger in a circle over the sensitive gland inside.

 

Chuck whimpered another ‘thank you, sir’ as he squirmed and shivered, confused between instinctively wanting to pull his feet away from the pain whilst also craving to buck up against Yancy’s finger.

 

Yancy pushed in a second dry digit, and Chuck moaned loudly, his fingers digging into the futon. “Ohh, it’s so good, sir,” Chuck mewled as Yancy’s fingers teased him, dry and slow, pushing against the hardened spot inside him.

 

Yancy continued his treatment of Chuck until his sub was constantly moaning and whimpering under him, feet reddened and cock hard. Yancy felt Chuck tense around his fingers, letting out a long, low groan, and Yancy stopped moving his hand. “Are you coming, pet?” Yancy said sharply.

 

“No… yes… sir,” Chuck whimpered, not even sure. He was dizzy with want and he was teetering on the edge when Yancy took away his stimulation.

 

Yancy slid out his fingers, eliciting a plaintive whine from Chuck. “And what do you do when you feel you’re coming?”

 

Chuck shook his head, trying to get some clarity to it. “Ask for permission, sir,” he eventually sighed.

 

“That’s right,” Yancy said. “But you were almost coming just now, weren’t you?” He ran the tip of the cane over Chuck’s soles.

 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Chuck panted. He’d been so close. He bit his lip, trying to calm down.

 

“That’s no good, pet,” Yancy said, rising to his feet. “You’re only thinking of yourself. That’s very selfish.”

 

Somehow, that wasn’t the response Chuck had expected. Then, to his surprise, Yancy took off the bindings on his ankles. Chuck turned and shook his ankles, working off the tension of them being bound for a long time.

 

He lifted his head a little, looking up at Yancy as he walked around to stand in front of Chuck. Yancy bowed forward and ran his hands through Chuck’s hair. “Sit up,” Yancy said. “Hands behind your back.”

 

Chuck complied, and his eyes followed Yancy as he walked to the table behind Chuck, his body still shivering from how close to orgasm he’d gotten. Yancy came back carrying a pair of nipple clamps with a chain between them. Chuck made a small whimpering noise at the back of his throat.

 

Chuck hissed when Yancy put the clamps on, tendrils of pain shooting across his chest in response. Then, Yancy took three spherical weights out of his pockets, and Chuck bit his lip, looking up at Yancy with a worried expression.

 

Yancy paused, cupping Chuck’s jaw. “Are the weights okay with you, pet?” Yancy asked, noticing Chuck’s apprehension.

 

Chuck’s brow furrowed and he bit his lip further, looking away. He didn’t want to say it, especially not after Yancy had treated him so well. He wanted to earn his reward.

 

Yancy’s finger rested underneath Chuck’s chin and lifted it up. “Look at me, pet,” Yancy said. “What’s the color?”

 

Chuck’s eyes stung. He really, really didn’t want to let Yancy down. But somehow, even though he could deal with the paddle, his gut twisted thinking about the heavy weights pulling on his nipples.

 

“It’s okay, pet,” Yancy said. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. Tell me the color.”

 

“Red,” Chuck whispered, barely audible. He swallowed, trying not to cry. He felt stupid and weak for it, and he couldn’t explain why a big wooden plank didn’t freak him out but those small spheres did.

 

Yancy’s hands cupped Chuck’s face, wiping away the few tears that had made their way onto Chuck’s face despite his best efforts. “It’s okay,” Yancy said. “Thank you for telling me. Don’t ever be afraid to tell me when you don’t want to do something. Ever.”

 

Yancy brought his face closer to Chuck’s, and kissed him on the lips, soft and affectionate. “I’m so glad you told me, pet,” Yancy said, his voice low and reassuring, his hand stroking Chuck’s hair. “I’m proud of you. I really am.” Chuck shivered against Yancy’s hold, his chest swelling at Yancy’s words.

 

And to Chuck’s surprise, Yancy released the clamps on his chest. Chuck hissed as they let go, blood flowing back into the tightly squeezed nubs. He would’ve been okay with the clamps staying on, but he caught Yancy’s gaze, filled with pride and desire, and then it hit Chuck. Yancy had told him he was proud, right? Isn’t that what he’d said before? That Chuck would get his reward if he made Yancy proud. Is that what Yancy meant?

 

Yancy stepped back, turned around, and sat down in the chair, legs spread, arms on the armrests, and beckoned Chuck with a crooked finger. “Come,” Yancy said. “You’ve earned your reward.”

 

Free of restraints, Chuck crawled toward Yancy on all fours, his lips parted and eyes wide. When he sat down between Yancy’s legs, he looked up, not sure how much leeway Yancy would allow him.

 

“Taste it, pet,” Yancy said, sliding a finger from the base to the tip of his cock. “It’s yours."

 

That was all the encouragement Chuck needed. He slid his hands up Yancy’s thighs and stuck out his tongue, and licked a long stripe from the base of Yancy’s cock to the tip, and back down. The hitch of Yancy’s breath sent a hot shiver through Chuck. Unless Yancy was going to say otherwise he figured he’d been given free reign, and he was going to taste every inch of Yancy’s dick and take his sweet time, memorizing every little curve and valley of his Dom’s impressive cock.

 

Chuck circled his tongue around the tip, over the narrow slit and back down again, curving his tongue around to feel as much of Yancy’s dick as he could without actually taking it into his mouth.

 

Under Chuck’s careful attention, Yancy leaned back and closed his eyes, finally surrendering to his own need. Chuck’s elaborate exploration of his cock was making him ache all the more for the wetness of Chuck’s mouth, but he held back, not giving Chuck any direction.

 

Chuck wasn’t oblivious to the change in Yancy’s attitude. Somehow, on his knees and his tongue curled around Yancy’s dick, he was the one in control. And it made him bold. Chuck parted his lips, leaned forward and sucked Yancy’s cock into his mouth, and a groan of pleasure rippled through Yancy’s body.

 

“Oh, baby, that feels amazing,” Yancy sighed.

 

If Chuck was able to grin with a thick cock in his mouth he would’ve, but his lips were stretched about as wide as they would go already. He answered Yancy’s praise by circling his tongue around the tip again and wrapping his hands around the base. Chuck loved the feel of Yancy inside his mouth, heavy and throbbing, and it was definitely worth all the hard work.

 

And maybe before he’d met Yancy he’d been new to kink, but Chuck definitely wasn’t new to sucking cock, and he was going to show Yancy just what he was capable of.

 

Chuck took one long, deep, slow breath and then let Yancy’s dick sink all the way into his mouth, until the tip was at the back of his throat and his lips wrapped around the base.

 

Yancy cried out, his hands flying into Chuck’s hair, his vision going white as his entire dick was engulfed by the warmth and wetness of Chuck’s mouth.

 

“Fuck, oh, fuck… oh pet, your mouth...” Yancy moaned, his head thrown back and hips rolling up towards Chuck.

 

Chuck went at Yancy’s dick with a voracity, practically trying to choke himself on it, and the effect on Yancy was wonderful. With every slide into Chuck’s throat Yancy lost a bit more control, his strangled cries turning into growls, his hands grasping Chuck’s hair tighter and tighter, his hips jerking up and pushing Chuck’s head down. Yancy was fucking Chuck’s face and Chuck loved it, loved seeing Yancy lose himself and loved being the one to make it happen.

 

Yancy spent himself so far back in Chuck’s mouth Chuck didn’t even taste the seed as he swallowed it, and he sucked hard, lapping up every drop of Yancy’s cum he could get his tongue on.

 

Chuck nuzzled against Yancy’s thigh, waiting patiently for Yancy to come back down from his orgasm. When finally he felt Yancy’s hand brushing against his cheek, he perked up and looked at Yancy with a wicked smile.

 

“Oh pet,” Yancy said, still out of breath. “You’re such a good boy.” Yancy carefully tucked his dick back into his pants, and patted his thighs. “Come up here.”

 

Chuck crawled up onto the large chair, his legs dangling over the armrests as his rear rested on Yancy’s thighs. His ass so close to Yancy’s cock, which he wanted inside him so badly, Chuck couldn’t help but grind down on it. Yancy laughed, grabbing Chuck’s side with one hand, holding him steady. “All in good time, pet,” he said, and pulled Chuck in for a kiss.

 

Yancy reached for the bottle of lube he kept next to the large chair, and squeezed a few drops onto Chuck’s cock. Chuck wrapped his arms around Yancy’s shoulders and let out a soft whine. “Thank you, sir,” Chuck gasped as Yancy’s hand wrapped around him. Chuck bit his lip, his hips bucking up into Yancy’s hand. Yancy didn’t often touch him directly and after only a few strokes Chuck buried his face in the crook of Yancy’s neck, coming into Yancy’s hand with a long whimper.

 

 

 

They were both so exhausted at the end of the evening that for once, Yancy skipped the more intensive aftercare, resolving to bathe Chuck in the morning. He quickly rinsed them both off in the shower and carried Chuck to the bed in the soft playroom. And usually Yancy went to his own bedroom after play. But the way Chuck was curled up, completely out for the count, smelling fresh from the shower and making small whimpering noises in his sleep, Yancy couldn’t bear to part from his side.

 

 

The next morning, when Chuck opened his eyes and saw Yancy’s sleeping face, he pinched his own nose to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, and he stayed completely still, not wanting even the smallest movement to wake up Yancy. Chuck studied Yancy’s face, the long eyelashes fanning out over his cheeks, his slightly parted lips where a soft rumbling snore was coming from, his typically neatly parted hair now messy and scattered across his forehead.

 

Then, Yancy’s eyes opened a few millimeters, and he smiled. “Morning, Chuck,” he mumbled sleepily, wrapping an arm and a leg around Chuck and pulling him in.

 

That’s when Chuck noticed he wasn’t lying in his usual bed.

 

“This is your bedroom,” Chuck said after a while.

 

Yancy’s snore was his reply.

 

Yancy must’ve carried him, Chuck figured. He didn’t remember falling asleep here. And he always slept in his own bed. They were a couple, but Yancy did live the lifestyle, and had some rules about his apartment, about the way they did things.

 

And now, Chuck had been allowed in Yancy’s bedroom. In Yancy’s bed. With Yancy there next to him, all night.

 

Chuck grinned like an idiot and snuggled up to Yancy, looking up at the man who made him feel so much in so many ways. And he wasn’t sure how to describe it. ‘I love you’ didn’t cover it. ‘Sir’ wasn’t enough.

 

Chuck thought of another word, and he mouthed it, not even giving it sound, not even a whisper. His lips merely wrapping around the shape of it ignited something very deep inside him, something dark and heavy and so intense it scared him, and he backed away from it.

 

Maybe one day he’d call Yancy that. But he wasn’t ready for it, and neither was Yancy. Not yet.


	3. The Choirs In My Head Sang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yancy and Chuck's relationship grows closer and more intense as they give more of themselves to each other in play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! It's finally here! This took foreeeveeeer to write. 
> 
> Our kinky boys are getting up to some really kinky stuff this time. So here's a few warnings in case my kinks are not your kinks: enema play, electro-torture, urinating and urethral dilator/sounding rod.
> 
> Beta'd by the lovely [likeappletrees](http://archiveofourown.org/users/likeappletrees) <3
> 
> Enjoy and let me know what you think!

Yancy got up halfway from his seat, suspiciously eyeing Chuck’s actions in his kitchen from the dinner table. “Are you sure you don’t need my help?” Yancy inquired, the smell of burnt food that wafted from the kitchen far too ominous. Then again, watching Chuck working at the kitchen counter wearing nothing but boxers and an apron was definitely worth staying seated for. Yancy licked his lips, taking in the ripple of Chuck’s muscles as he sliced up the vegetables, the way Chuck’s hips swayed as he moved from the chopping block to the stove and back.

 

“I can handle it!” Chuck called back. “I said I’d make dinner and I will, yeah?”

 

Chuck turned his attention back to the skillet which, yes, had slightly burnt mushrooms in it, because he’d been slicing up the onions and was actually supposed to do those things in reverse order. It’d be fine. He’d made this dozens of times. Mostly because he’d practiced the recipe at home over and over until he was sure he couldn’t get it any better, right before he’d told Yancy he wanted to make dinner for them tonight. It was their five month anniversary, which probably wasn’t really a thing but he knew the precise day anyway, and maybe Yancy did too, so Chuck was going to make an effort.

 

That, and he really wanted to ask Yancy for something. Really, really wanted. Yancy had spanked him, tied him up, tied him down, worked him over with flogs and paddles, whips and canes and more. Yancy had brought him to orgasm with fingers and plugs, and Chuck was now regularly allowed to please Yancy with his own mouth and fingers. But he wanted more, he wanted something bigger; he wanted Yancy inside him. And that was a big reward, literally, figuratively, all of it. When it had sunk in with Chuck that Yancy wasn’t going to offer himself, Chuck knew he was going to have to ask for it. And somehow he didn’t just want to blurt it out. He wanted to woo Yancy in every way, to show how much he wanted him, to put every bit of effort he could into their relationship. This wasn’t about Yancy holding out on him or playing some sort of carrot and stick game. He needed to show Yancy what he was capable of, what he was willing to do for Yancy and for both of them.

 

So Yancy should know very well Chuck didn’t want any of his help. Even though Chuck had practiced the recipe to perfection and was still getting it wrong because of nerves.

 

Half an hour later, Chuck proudly carried two plates of stir-fried vegetables, steak and puffed potatoes to the dinner table. He’d considered a bottle of wine, but knew how Yancy felt about alcohol, and he didn’t know where the rest of the evening would go. So he’d settled for making booze-free cocktails with a combination of red fruits, which at least looked almost like two glasses of good Merlot.

 

They clinked their glasses, ate and drank and talked about work and college, occasionally thrown off track by a tempting look or innuendo. It was mostly Yancy who managed to keep the conversation pleasant, as Chuck’s cooking skills were a lot better than his small talk skills. Chuck really wished he could’ve had that wine. Instead, his toes were curling up underneath the table, and he had trouble finishing his plate knowing that every bite took him closer to asking Yancy that question.

 

Yancy, of course, was more than aware of Chuck’s reluctance to finish his meal and why. Knew it was their five month anniversary. Knew what Chuck was going to ask. Because he cared more about Chuck than he’d ever cared about anyone save Raleigh, couldn’t put it into words, and he wanted to prove himself to Chuck just as much. He was still afraid Chuck would leave, would want to experience other Doms, perhaps even try switching. And Yancy wanted to show Chuck that he could be everything to him. This particular scene had somehow become this really important thing between them.

 

Finally, with a trembling hand, Chuck put down his fork, chewing and swallowing the last bit of his dinner. Yancy locked eyes with him, a smile playing across his lips.

 

“Er, I have desserts, too --” Chuck started, but Yancy shook his head and got up from his seat, walking around the table to stand next to Chuck.

 

“I don’t want dessert,” Yancy said, plucking Chuck’s hand from the table and pulling him off the chair, leading him towards the sofa.

 

Yancy sat down on the sofa and along with his movement Chuck fluently dropped to his knees. He looked up at Yancy, the corners of his mouth curving downwards a little in a worried expression, his brow furrowing. Yancy’s hand drifted softly into his hair, and Chuck leaned into the caress.

 

“You’ve been wanting to ask me something all evening, haven’t you, pet?” Yancy said, feeling a shiver run down his spine. He was accustomed to taking charge and naturally did so, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t nervous.

 

Chuck put his hands on Yancy’s knees, his brow knitting together further, lines forming on his forehead in a pleading look. He bit his lip, looked away, down at Yancy’s shoes, trying to form the words. He’d practiced those, too. But now it seemed he’d forgotten all of them anyway.

 

Yancy placed a finger under Chuck’s chin and lifted Chuck’s head up to meet his eyes. His other hand slid down, covering Chuck’s hand on his knee and giving it a soft squeeze. “Ask me,” Yancy said. “Remember, if you don’t speak up, I won’t understand.” He’d repeated those words to Chuck so often they had become like a mantra.

 

Chuck’s fingers dug into Yancy’s knees, but he ignored the transgression, knowing Chuck was building up the courage to speak, bracing himself for it.

 

Chuck met Yancy’s eyes, and a fierce stubbornness took hold of him. “I want you inside me,” Chuck finally said. “I want you to fuck me. Sir. So much, more than anything. Please, sir. I’ll do whatever you ask. I want you so badly,” Chuck said, all of it tumbling out at once, igniting a hot red blush flourishing from the top of his head all the way down to his shoulders.

 

Yancy smiled. “Good boy," he said, running his hand through Chuck’s hair. He leaned forward, lips on Chuck’s ear. “And I want to be inside you, pet," he whispered. “I want to feel your beautiful ass tight all around me.” Chuck let out a soft whine, shivering with Yancy’s hot breath on his ear and the dirty talk coming from his lips.

 

Yancy kissed Chuck, starting slow, tracing Chuck’s lips with his tongue, then pushing them apart and darting inside, lapping at Chuck’s tongue with his own. Chuck melted into the kiss, surrendering himself to Yancy’s attention, softly moaning against his lips. Yancy’s hands cupped Chuck’s jaw and pulled him in closer, Chuck’s arms sliding over Yancy’s thighs and resting lightly on the hard curves of his hip muscles. Yancy lowered his upper body further whilst pulling Chuck up, forcing Chuck’s jaw open wide, kissing him as deep and wholly as possible, sweeping his tongue over every inch of Chuck’s mouth, tasting the flavors of the dinner they just had mingled with Chuck’s own sweetness. His kisses were relentless, possessive, and he didn’t stop until Chuck was weak and moaning in his arms, hands clinging at Yancy’s blouse.

 

Yancy smiled against Chuck’s lips and let him go, getting up from the sofa. Chuck sagged down on the floor, parted lips reddened and covered with saliva. Yancy fetched his laptop from his desk and sat back down on the sofa, patting the spot next to him.

 

“Let’s put together a scene,” Yancy said, flipping open the lid of the laptop.

 

Chuck grinned and climbed up on the sofa, snuggling up to Yancy. “Yeah,” Chuck replied with a wide smile.

 

  
  


 

 

Together, they worked out what they wanted to do. Some of it was stuff they were both okay with, but some of it, either Chuck or Yancy or both found challenging. Both had the urge to stretch themselves, to prove to the other how far they could go. And they set a date, keeping their calendars clear of any other appointments. Chuck felt as nervous as he had for his first date with a guy somewhere in his late teens.

 

At 2 pm sharp in the afternoon on a Saturday, the doorbell rang at Yancy’s apartment. He’d changed into his outfit for the scene: a sleeveless leather waistcoat with red accents, black cotton slacks with an easy, comfortable fly like his other pair, and simple, black leather shoes. Tight leather pants would restrict his movements too much, and he needed to feel flexible more than look the part.

 

He let Chuck into the apartment and they greeted each other with a kiss and little words. They were eager to get started, already so in the mindset of the scene that they didn’t require further introductions or transitions. Chuck had been thinking about nothing else the whole subway ride to Yancy’s place; hell, it was all he’d been thinking about for the entire week, barely even paying attention during college classes. Yancy hadn’t been able to focus on work much either, going through the scene they’d planned over and over in his head.

 

Once inside, Chuck slowly undressed, a blush flourishing on his cheeks. He was already trembling, fingers fumbling with the laces on his shoes and the button on his fly, and even though Yancy had turned up the heating in the apartment he shivered. When Chuck was completely naked he kneeled down in front of Yancy in a classic position of submission: thighs far apart, hands clasped together behind his back, exposing his chest, abdomen and cock, with his head lowered and eyes cast towards the floor.

 

“I’m ready, sir,” Chuck said, the shakiness of his voice betraying his nerves and excitement. His heart was pounding rapidly in his chest and it all felt oddly reminiscent of the first time he held hands with a man in public, the first time he bottomed, the first time he topped. And this was a first time too, for him and Yancy.

 

Yancy took a deep breath, sucking in the air until his chest was full and tight, and then released it as slow as he could, letting himself settle into his role as Dom as his muscles gradually relaxed.

 

“Present your hands,” Yancy said, holding a pair of leather cuffs, each about two inches long and the diameter adjustable by two small sturdy belts on each cuff. There were several rings across the length of the cuffs and they were joined together by a short metal chain.

 

“Yes, sir,” Chuck said, moving his arms to stretch out in front of his chest, hands balled lightly into fists and keeping his wrists two inches apart.

 

Yancy put the cuffs on Chuck, securing Chuck’s arms together at the front. “Present your feet,” Yancy said.

 

Chuck moved his feet together and stretched out his legs towards Yancy, and Yancy put similar cuffs on Chuck’s ankles. These were a little bigger in diameter and had a longer metal chain between them, so Chuck could walk without having to stumble too much. Finally, Yancy attached a chain from the wrist cuffs to the ankle cuffs, allowing Chuck to feel somewhat restrained whilst still giving him enough room to walk around.

 

“Follow me, pet,” Yancy said. “Don’t look up.”

 

Chuck wasn’t about to do so, but he was glad Yancy reminded him all the same. He didn’t want to mess up for being forgetful.

 

Yancy led Chuck to the large, rougher playroom up the stairs, slowing his pace as they climbed to the higher level, making sure Chuck wouldn’t fall down.

 

There was a part of the playroom Chuck had seen before but they hadn’t done a scene in yet. It was separated from the rest of the room by a large white curtain. The playroom used to be a storage room with a bathroom next to it and Yancy had torn down the walls, creating the larger room, and had left the plumbing intact. As a result, the playroom had a functional toilet and shower.

 

Yancy had turned up the temperature in the playroom higher than usual, not wishing for Chuck to catch a cold or otherwise become sick during their play.

 

Yancy led Chuck to the bathroom corner, and closed the curtain again, separating it from the scenery of the rest of the playroom. The corner was about five by six yards and had white tiles on the walls and floor. There was a small white table and a sink next to it on the side of the wall, with a shower to the right of the sink and the toilet to the left of the table, both closed off with additional curtains—just in case a submissive signaled an orange or red light and needed the extra privacy to recuperate. The bathroom lacked mirrors, however. Yancy had found those tended to pull people out of the play. The bathroom also smelled vaguely of bleach—Yancy had made sure it was spotless.

 

A light touch of Yancy’s index finger on his shoulder told Chuck to kneel again. He sagged down on his knees, shivering on the cold and sterile tiles of the bathroom, his eyes still down-turned unless Yancy ordered him to do otherwise.

 

"You asked for a very big reward, pet," Yancy said. “I want to make sure you're ready for it. That's why, today, I will help you clean yourself out."

 

Chuck whimpered, just barely. He knew this was something they were both curious about and had agreed to do when building the scene, but that didn’t make it any less scary. He’d given himself enemas countless of times to the point where the feeling and smell didn’t weird him out anymore, but that didn’t mean he was really at ease with Yancy there. He’d come to associate it with a private ritual. Making Yancy a part of it was at once very intimate, embarrassing and made him feel open and vulnerable; a cocktail of emotions that drove him further into submission to Yancy, which was what he truly craved.

 

Yancy had been toying with the idea of cleaning out a sub himself, but just like Chuck he associated it with intimacy much deeper than any sexual act. It was Chuck who had proposed to make it a part of their scene and Yancy understood why Chuck wanted to do this. And Yancy hoped he’d be able to help Chuck through it, to take proper care of him.

 

“Do you understand what I mean?” Yancy said, wanting to make sure they were on the same page with this. It wasn’t a scene that could be easily broken off.

 

Chuck nodded. “Yes, sir,” he answered. “I always clean myself for you. But today, you will help me.”

 

Chuck gestured towards the table. There were several IV drip bags lying on it, as well as transparent plastic tubes that could be connected through a series of valves. Next to the table was a stainless steel IV pole, with wheels underneath and hooks at the top.

 

“Very good, pet,” Yancy said. “Are you ready?”

 

Just as Yancy had before, Chuck took a deep breath and slowly let it out, loosening the tension he held as much as he could.

 

“Yes, sir, I’m ready,” Chuck answered. He’d learned to repeat Yancy’s question in his answer so that Yancy knew he’d processed the words. In a state of excitement or subspace it was all too easy to call out a ‘yes sir’ without truly listening to what the question had been.

 

Yancy ran his hand through Chuck’s hair, over the back of his neck and cupped his jaw, lifted his head up and kissed his forehead.

 

“Turn around, pet,” Yancy said. Chuck obeyed, and Yancy ran his hand from the back of Chuck’s neck to the bottom of his spine. “Sit on your elbows and knees, spread your legs and lift your ass up high.”

 

Chuck shuddered, moving himself into position, his arms pressing onto the cold hard floor as he exposed himself to his Dom.

 

Yancy walked to the table and washed his hands, then put on a pair of latex gloves. He sat down behind Chuck on one knee, squeezed a small amount of lube on his index finger and wetted the small ring before slipping his digit inside Chuck’s tight opening.

 

Chuck let out a soft whine, enjoying the familiar intrusion, moving his hips back for more.

 

But Yancy slid out his finger, already satisfied with the amount of lubrication he’d applied. He rose to his feet and walked back to the table. He took one of the IV bags from the table and hooked it onto the stainless steel pole. Then he rigged up the tubing, making sure the small white valves along the path of the thin transparent tubes were still closed. Finally, he attached a nozzle to the end of the bottom tube, and slicked it up with a few drops of lubricant.

 

Yancy bowed down over Chuck, holding the nozzle against him and slowly pushed it inside. Chuck moaned and sighed in response.

 

Chuck had done this to himself many times before, though never with the elaborate tubes and valves, and it was so different now that Yancy was there with him. A sense of shame and embarrassment welled up in his chest, and he let out another sigh.

 

Yancy softly stroked Chuck’s hair. “I’m going to let the water in now, pet,” he said.

 

“Yes, sir,” Chuck replied in little more than a whisper. He was grateful for being allowed to hide his head between his arms, keeping his eyes closed. He felt so ashamed he wasn’t sure he could meet Yancy’s eyes without tearing up.

 

Yancy opened the valves from the top to the bottom, one by one, and the water flowed down from the bag, through the tubes, into the nozzle and finally, slowly trickled inside Chuck.

 

Chuck whimpered at the first sensation of the water going inside him. The liquid was tepid in temperature and a quick heat fluttered up in his belly when he realized Yancy had taken care to warm up the bags a little beforehand.

 

Yancy held one hand on the bottom valve whilst caressing Chuck with long, gentle strokes from the top of his head to his rear, and he could feel the tiny tremors running through Chuck’s body as more water went in. Yancy’s gaze drifted upwards from the small black nozzle buried inside Chuck to the connected tubes, up to the IV drip bag. Slowly but surely the bag was going empty, and Yancy marveled at the fact that the liquid was going into Chuck. Who knelt before him, letting Yancy take care of him like this, embarrassed and vulnerable and wanting this so badly he’d asked for it. Yancy was overcome with a deep, warm affection for Chuck, who trusted him this much, who wanted to make Yancy a part of this ritual.

 

“Halfway through the bag, pet. You’re doing very well,” Yancy said, gently pressing the pads of his fingers down on the small of Chuck’s back, rolling and massaging the tight bundle of nerves, bone and muscle.

 

Chuck’s fingers curled into the tiles of the floor as his insides slowly filled up with water. His abdomen was beginning to hurt a little. His bottom lip trembled. Yancy was being so kind and comforting, taking care of him whilst at the same time doing this to him, and Chuck felt a few tears slide down his cheeks and he let out a long, whimpering sigh.

 

“How are you doing, pet?” Yancy asked, continuing to massage Chuck’s lower back whilst his other hand was close on the bottom valve.

 

“I’m doing okay, sir,” Chuck answered, his voice a lot more shaky than he’d expected.

 

“You’re such a good boy,” Yancy said softly, continuing to press and stroke his fingers over Chuck’s back and neck in soothing circles. He took another look at the drip bag and closed the bottom valve.

 

"You've emptied the first bag already, pet," Yancy said. "How do you feel?"

 

Chuck felt the familiar aches and cramps in his stomach. He was breathing faster and his body temperature was rising, his insides working to expel the foreign liquid.

 

"I feel uncomfortable, sir," Chuck answered.

 

Yancy walked to Chuck’s front and lightly placed his hand on Chuck’s head. "Look at me, pet," Yancy said. “Let me see you."

 

Chuck lifted his head up and met Yancy’s gaze. His face was flushed red with shame, eyes a little teary and his teeth were sitting on his lips, ready to bite down in case of painful cramps.

 

Yancy smiled. “Do you think you can take another bag, pet?"

 

Chuck closed his eyes for a few seconds, focusing on the sensations in his body. “Yes, sir,” he answered after about half a minute. “Please give me another bag.”

 

Yancy was a little taken aback. Chuck still managed to surprise him. One bag was the standard liter and he figured that was quite a lot to handle. But Chuck was asking for more.

 

Yancy hooked a new bag onto the pole, waited until the water had made its way down to the bottom valve and then rested his hand on Chuck’s back. “Ready, pet?” Yancy said.

 

Chuck leaned down lower on his elbows and lifted his hips up higher. His insides were definitely cramping up now, but he wanted to show Yancy how well he could handle this, wanted to impress him. “I’m ready, sir,” he answered.

 

Yancy turned the bottom valve open again, keeping a close eye on the bag, resting his fingers very lightly on Chuck’s side so he could feel any spasm or sign of trouble.

 

Chuck’s breathing became labored, and he counted his breaths, sucking air in through his nose and breathing out through his nose in a five-ten rhythm. Yancy could feel Chuck’s body shake under him.

 

“Almost halfway through,” Yancy said hoarsely. “You’re so strong, pet.”

 

Then Chuck let out a loud whimper. A sharp cramp shot through this body and he stiffened. “Please, sir,” he whispered.

 

Yancy immediately closed the valve. “It’s okay,” he said softly.

 

Chuck nodded. He felt full and bloated and his heart was pounding, but it would soon be over.

 

“I’m ready to expel, sir,” Chuck gasped.

 

Yancy ran his hand up to the nozzle and very slowly pulled it out. Chuck hissed, doing his best to clench tight.

 

Yancy sat down in front of Chuck on one knee and took Chuck’s hands in his. “Can you stand up like this?” he asked.

 

“Yes, sir,” Chuck breathed, pushing his body upwards against Yancy’s touch, who moved up along with him, lifting Chuck to his feet.

 

Yancy walked Chuck to the toilet in a shuffling pace, still holding his hands. “Do you want to sit behind the curtain?” Yancy asked.

 

Chuck shook his head. “No, sir… just… keep holding my hands, please?” he answered softly, sitting down.

 

“Okay, pet,” Yancy said, stroking Chuck’s hands with his thumbs. “I’m here. I will take care of you.”

 

Chuck was so beautiful like this, his entire body expressing conflicting emotions all at once; pain and pleasure, shame and pride, strength and weakness. His eyes were squeezed shut, his face red, and his cheeks were wet from shed tears. Yancy had no doubt he was the only one allowed to see Chuck like this.

 

Yancy gave Chuck’s hands a soft squeeze. “It’s all right, pet. You can let go.”

 

Chuck let out a loud sob, and his grip on Yancy’s hands tightened.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“The liquid’s running clear now, pet,” Yancy said. “You’re all clean inside.” He smiled, running his hands through Chuck’s hair.

 

Chuck rested his head against Yancy’s knee and nudged against it with a soft whine.

 

Yancy squatted on his heels and wrapped his arms around Chuck. “I’m so proud of you,” Yancy said, his voice cracking. “So, so proud.” He sat up, pulling Chuck up with him in his embrace, and desire welled up inside his chest. He kissed Chuck, slow at first, then with abandon, and when tasting the salt of dried tears on Chuck’s face he moved his tongue to lick them off.

 

Yancy was rarely that affectionate during their play and Chuck simply smiled and leaned back into his touch, basking in the attention and the warm glow that spread through his body. He was a bit tired but he felt light and empty and above all safe and cared for.

 

When Yancy managed to tear himself off Chuck, he took Chuck by the hands and led him to the shower at the other side of the bathroom. Yancy turned on the water, letting it heat up, whilst he began to undress.

 

Chuck’s eyes widened in surprise. It was highly unusual for Yancy to take his clothes off during play. More than anything that told him how different today’s scene was from others, though he still couldn’t quite put into words how exactly.

 

But the scene had taken a bigger toll on Yancy than Chuck realized. Yancy felt itchy and sweaty and a shower seemed like a pretty good idea, and would fit well into their scene.

 

Yancy gestured for Chuck to step into the shower and then joined him. The wrist and ankle cuffs were still on, and the chains jingled under the running water. Chuck knew very well he couldn’t wash himself this way, so he waited for Yancy to tell him what to do.

 

“I still need to clean you outside, pet,” Yancy said with a smile. “Face the wall.”

 

Chuck did so, and in this position, the shower head was right above him and the water cascaded over his face. He bowed his head to not get water in his nose and eyes.

 

And then Yancy’s large, strong hands ran over his body, slick with soap, pressing and massaging, and Chuck groaned loudly with the intense pleasure that coursed through him. Yancy laughed. “It’s nice, isn’t it, pet?” he said, smiling.

 

“It’s so nice, thank you, sir,” Chuck gasped. “You take such good care of me.”

 

Yancy spread soap over Chuck’s arms and legs and then firmly grabbed Chuck’s ass cheeks, soap foaming up in his palms, and tugged them apart.

 

Chuck had gotten so carried away being washed by Yancy he’d practically forgotten Yancy was naked behind him, and when he felt Yancy’s half-hard erection pressing against his ass, nudging in between his cheeks, he almost jumped with how fast and hot desire surged up through him, and he moaned. “Please, oh, please sir, I want it,” Chuck whimpered.

 

Yancy curled over Chuck, pressing his chest to Chuck’s back, and laughed. “Not yet, pet,” he said. “You know that.”

 

Chuck bit his lip. He knew that would’ve been too good to be true, but he really wanted to feel Yancy inside him so badly it was all he could do not to push his hips back hard into him. He squirmed and whined, Yancy being so naked and close to him it was driving him mad.

 

Yancy stepped back a little and ran a soaped-up hand between Chuck’s buttocks, rubbing up and down with firm strokes, pushing the soap into even the smallest corners of Chuck’s body. Chuck moaned and mumbled incoherently, wanting to spread his legs further but being held back by the chain between his ankle cuffs.

 

“Turn around, pet,” Yancy said, rinsing his hands and squeezing on another generous helping of soap as Chuck obeyed.

 

Yancy soaped up Chuck’s chest and thighs and neck and shoulders, completely ignoring Chuck’s obvious hard-on in the process, which only elicited more whines from Chuck.

 

Finally, Yancy filled his hands with shampoo and ran them into Chuck’s hair. Chuck groaned and pretty much purred as Yancy dug his fingers into Chuck’s scalp, working the foam into his hair in large circles.

 

Yancy had considered letting Chuck wash him too, but in their current setting that would upset the power imbalance between them. So he quickly soaped himself up and rinsed off.

 

Yancy leaned forward, placed a kiss on Chuck’s lips, stepped back onto the shower mat and wrapped a black bathrobe around himself. Then he reached into the shower, took the shower head off the hook and turned off the hot water.

 

Chuck yelped when the cold water hit him, instinctively wrapping his arms around himself.

 

“Open your arms, pet,” Yancy said. “I have to rinse off all the soap.”

 

Chuck whimpered and obeyed, shivering under the almost ice-cold shower.

 

Yancy was quick and methodical, making sure the cold water poured over every inch of Chuck’s body that might contain soap, ordering Chuck to turn around and bend over to get the water everywhere. Chuck hissed when the hard, cold jets from the shower head hit his dick, which had gone limp because of the cold, but was still very sensitive. When Yancy finally turned off the tap, Chuck sagged down on the shower tiles shivering and teeth clattering.

 

Chuck still had his eyes closed when he was enveloped by heavy, incredibly soft heat. Yancy wrapped him in a towel that felt like two times his size and was huge and fluffy. Yancy’s strong arms reached below him and lifted him off the shower floor, carrying him out of the bathroom, out of the harsher playroom and to the softer one, where Yancy gently laid him down on the bed.

 

“Rest for awhile, pet,” Yancy said. “I’ll be back soon.”

 

 

\---

 

 

_“How about this?” Chuck said, pointing at a photo on the Kink Dome web shop._

_“I haven’t done anything with enemas yet,” Yancy said, trying to keep his voice level. There was something very intimate about it that he wasn’t quite comfortable with—or at least up until now he hadn’t. Maybe with Chuck, he could be. “Is that something you want to do?”_

_Chuck looked up at him, all big eyes and blushing. “Yeah. I always clean myself out for you,” he said, his blush blooming all the way down his neck, lighting up his freckles along the way. “It’s… special to me. Like a ritual. I want you to be a part of it.”_

_Yancy’s chest tightened, caught off-guard by Chuck’s frankness. Chuck was always like that, charging forward, afraid but going for it anyway, blush be damned. Always so vulnerable and strong at the same time, when Yancy was just strong._

 

\---

 

 

Yancy came back just when Chuck was heating up again, his skin pleasantly tingly. He felt clean and energized and was sitting on the bed cross-legged, arms in his lap. The cuffs were still on, but he felt comfortable in his position. When he heard Yancy approach, he quickly dropped his head on his chest and cast his eyes downward.

 

Yancy had changed his outfit, this time wearing a loose cotton black blouse and leather pants, as well as a pair of boots.

 

He approached the bed and lifted Chuck’s chin up, placing a light kiss on his lips.

 

“How are you feeling, pet?” Yancy asked.

 

Chuck smiled. “I feel good, sir,” he replied. His skin was glowing all over from the cold shower and he felt relaxed.

 

“That’s good,” Yancy said, smiling. “Come.”

 

Chuck followed Yancy back to the harsh playroom and went to stand in the center. Yancy removed Chuck’s wrist and ankle cuffs and began to tie a harness around Chuck’s chest, connecting it to the ropes hanging from the hook on the ceiling.

 

Chuck had a grin plastered across his face the whole time. He loved bondage and it felt great to have Yancy circle him with ropes, his hands deft and strong on the knots, pressing this way and nudging that way, moving Chuck’s body around like a doll.

 

Yancy put Chuck up in a frogtie, arms behind his back and calves tied to his thighs, and lifted him off the floor. After fetching some attributes from the toy table he moved to run his fingers over Chuck’s body, circling until he was standing in front of him. It definitely didn’t escape Chuck’s attention that Yancy’s crotch was at the same level as his mouth, and he licked his lips, hungrily staring up at Yancy.

 

Yancy smiled. While there were still a lot of painful things he wanted to do to Chuck, right now they seemed to be on the same page. Chuck hanging from the ceiling, limbs tied up, looking up at Yancy with pleading eyes and parted lips, and Yancy knew exactly what he was thinking.

 

He grabbed a hold of the rope above Chuck and moved a step closer. He ran a hand over the growing bulge in his pants. “You want this, don’t you pet?” he said.

 

“Please, sir,” Chuck panted. “Please use my mouth.” He opened his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue.

 

Yancy smiled and took his cock out of his pants, letting it rest barely an inch from Chuck’s lips.

 

Chuck looked up at Yancy and whimpered, knowing very well he wasn’t supposed to do anything until Yancy told him to. Saliva was pooling in his mouth and heat crawled through his skin. He ached to take Yancy in between his lips and Yancy’s large, heavy cock was right there and he couldn’t touch it.

 

Yancy’s hand weaved into Chuck’s hair, yanking his head up painfully, which sent a shock of pleasure right to Chuck’s own dick.

 

“What do you want, pet?” Yancy growled.

 

“I want your dick in my mouth, sir,” Chuck gasped, biting his lips, his fingers curling around the ropes behind his back.

 

“Tell me how much you want it,” Yancy hissed, pulling Chuck’s hair even harder.

 

“Please, sir, I want it so much,” Chuck panted. “I’ll do anything, please.”

 

“Anything?” Yancy said, grinning. That was just play, of course; there was no way he’d ever ignore Chuck’s boundaries or signals.

 

“Yes, sir,” Chuck replied.

 

Yancy placed his thumb on Chuck’s jaw and pressed down hard, opening Chuck’s mouth even wider. Then he took a ring gag out of his pocket and shoved it into Chuck’s mouth, keeping it wide open and pushing his teeth out of the way. Saliva slowly spilled down Chuck’s chin. Chuck shivered with anticipation, and the fierce throb between his legs told him he was getting even harder.

 

Yancy walked to Chuck’s side and attached the signaling bracelet to Chuck’s hand, making sure he could press it. Then Yancy moved his attention to Chuck’s lower body. “You’re so excited already, pet,” Yancy said. He took a cock ring out of his pocket and pushed it down on Chuck’s erection, tightening it around the base. Chuck moaned loudly when Yancy touched him, jerking into his hand. He hissed when the ring tightened around him. Pain and pleasure mingled together and he shuddered in his restraints.

 

Then, Yancy took a pair of Japanese clover nipple clamps, knelt down, and carefully put them on Chuck’s nipples. Chuck yelped and trashed against the bonds.

 

“Now, now, pet,” Yancy said. “You said you’d do anything. I think you can handle a pair of clamps.”

 

He stood up and ran his hand through Chuck’s hair, yanking it up again, and with his other hand gave his cock a few long, firm strokes. “Or don’t you want this anymore?”

 

Chuck whimpered, unable to speak with the gag in. He wanted to say it was okay, that he could handle the clamps, and pressed the buzzer bracelet for green. Pleased with Chuck's response, Yancy fished out the last of the attributes he’d gathered out of his pocket, and Chuck’s eyes grew wide. Yancy held three small spherical weights in his hand. Chuck shivered, remembering how he’d called a red light on them before. But that was months ago.

 

“Shall I put these on, pet?” Yancy asked.

 

Chuck closed his eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again, and firmly nodded as his finger pressed on the bracelet, signaling green once more.

 

“Very well,” Yancy said, and he knelt next to Chuck again, putting the weights on one by one. Chuck hissed and whined as the weights pulled down the tight, painful clamps further. He spasmed against the ropes a few times, pain coursing through his body, trying to find release. After a few seconds tears shot into Chuck’s eyes.

 

But Chuck took a deep breath, swallowing his urge to thrash and cry out, and looked up at Yancy with a fierce, insistent gaze. The pain made him angry, and now he wanted his reward.

 

Yancy grinned. He was proud of Chuck, and it thrilled him that Chuck was willing to bear the pain in order to please him.

 

Yancy positioned himself in front of Chuck, took his dick into his hand and guided the tip inside Chuck’s mouth, letting it rest on Chuck’s tongue.

 

Chuck was completely powerless; he couldn’t move his arms or legs, he was suspended from the ceiling and a gag was holding his mouth wide open. His erection pulsed hard against the confinement of the cock ring. Just about the only thing he could move was his tongue.

 

Chuck circled his tongue around the tip of Yancy’s dick, tasting and licking as much of it as he could, pressing the tip of his tongue hard against the slit. Yancy let out a deep groan and a hot flash of satisfaction shot through Chuck’s chest. He loved being able to please Yancy with his body.

 

Yancy stepped closer, sliding his cock further into Chuck’s mouth. Chuck gagged a little but his jaw clenched uselessly against the gag. He was unable to close his mouth, and more saliva dribbled down his chin and neck onto the floor.

 

“Oh, pet, your mouth feels so good,” Yancy breathed, running his hands into Chuck’s hair. He slid even further inside and moaned when he felt Chuck’s throat contract around him. Then he pulled out again, and looked down at Chuck. “I’m going to fuck your face now, pet,” Yancy said. Chuck shuddered, his fingers found their way to the bracelet again, and he pressed green.

 

Yancy started up a slow rhythm, sliding as far back into Chuck’s throat as he could, then sliding out. Chuck tried to relax as much as possible, letting Yancy in, but Yancy was so big and was pushing in so far. Chuck’s gag reflex kicked in a few times and his throat convulsed around Yancy’s length, coughing up saliva that spilled out of his mouth and dripped onto the floor.

 

Yancy weaved both hands into Chuck’s hair and picked up the pace, thrusting into Chuck’s mouth with fast, hard strokes. He could feel Chuck gag around him and it only further fed his pleasure, because this had been one of the scenes they’d both really wanted to do, and he knew Chuck was getting off on it as much as he was. Yancy wasn’t one to easily let go, but the way Chuck was looking up at him, face red and wet with tears and saliva but his eyes still pleading for more, Yancy could feel the tightness in his chest uncoil, the control he always clung to slipping further away as he thrust harder and deeper into Chuck’s face.

 

Chuck could barely see anything through the tears that jumped into his eyes with every shove of Yancy’s dick into his mouth, his jaw ached and his throat felt raw. The gag was holding his mouth open, lips and teeth stretched apart, making his face a hot, slick orifice for Yancy to use. It was uncomfortable and painful and turned him on immensely. Chuck could feel his cock ache hard against the restraining ring, his hips jerking forward at the same pace Yancy was thrusting into his mouth. The clamps on his nipples swung back and forth, sending razor-sharp tendrils of pain through his chest and body, creating an intoxicating mix of endorphins and dopamine in his body, buzzing in his veins.

 

Chuck swirled his tongue around Yancy’s dick, determined to give as much pleasure to Yancy as he could, and Yancy’s deep growls and hisses as a result sent hot shivers down his spine. Yancy was losing himself and Chuck’s entire body was swinging back and forth on the ropes from the force with which Yancy was fucking into his mouth.

 

Yancy’s thrusts were becoming arrhythmic and Chuck could tell Yancy was getting close. At one particularly hard shove, Chuck felt one of the nipple clamps dislodge and fall off and the resulting pain made him cry out, just as Yancy’s dick was in deep, muffling the sound. Yancy groaned with the added vibration against his dick and shuddered as he slid out. Now that the weights were all on one nipple, the other clamp began to slide down as well, slow and excruciating, and Chuck cried out, shaking his upper body against the bindings to dislodge the clamp as fast as possible. But Yancy’s grip on his hair was tight and heedless of the clamps. Yancy kept pushing inside, and with a few more thrusts, the clamp finally let go, and Chuck groaned around Yancy’s length, more tears flowing down his cheeks.

 

With every slide of Yancy’s hot, heavy dick into his mouth Chuck pressed and swiped his tongue against it as hard as possible. Yancy’s hands dug into his scalp, yanking his hair up painfully. “Fuck, your tongue, pet, your mouth is so good, you’re such a good boy,” Yancy groaned, his hips jerking forward with every other word. Finally, he pulled Chuck towards him with a long, deep growl, doubling over, cradling Chuck’s head between his arms and chest as he climaxed, a heavy wave of pleasure rolling up from toes, the tight bundle in his chest untangling into a fiercely hot stream that left him through his dick. His hand moved to quickly undo the gag in Chuck’s mouth, throwing it on the floor and Yancy whimpered loudly when Chuck’s lips closed around him, hot and wet and hungry, letting Chuck milk him for everything he had. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Yancy hissed, over and over, his mind overtaken by the sensations, by Chuck continuing to circle his tongue around his length, hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard.

 

Chuck’s skin felt as if it was on fire, rippling and shaking as Yancy let himself go inside his mouth. His jaw hurt and his eyes hurt but the sounds Yancy was making, knowing Chuck was responsible for them, it was all worth it.

 

Yancy squeezed out the last drops tightly from the base to the tip and pulled back, Chuck’s tongue tracing the length and tip of his cock until he fell out, spent and softening. “Oh, pet,” Yancy breathed, stroking Chuck’s cheek, and Chuck looked up at him with a cocky smirk.

 

“I love the taste of your come, sir,” Chuck offered with a grin.

 

Yancy couldn’t help himself and bent forward, claimed Chuck’s mouth with his own and kissed him deeply, tasting himself inside. Chuck moaned into the kiss and then, nipped at Yancy’s lips a little, his teeth pressing down.

 

Yancy pulled back fast, yanking Chuck’s head back again. “Naughty pet,” he said with a low growl, still recovering from his intense orgasm. Chuck had picked up on how much Yancy had let go of his composure and was now testing how far he could go, challenging Yancy to punish him. “No biting.”

 

Chuck grinned. “Sorry, sir,” he said, but his tone was taunting and his eyes had a mischievous sparkle to them. He licked his lips and snapped his teeth.

 

Yancy tucked his dick back into his pants. “Seems like you need to be taught a lesson, pet.”

 

 

\---

 

_They didn’t miss a beat and looked at each other when they flicked through the gallery of instructional videos and the one about facefucking jumped to the front. They both grinned._

_“I see we’re definitely doing that one,” Yancy said._

_“Maybe, like, tied up?” Chuck suggested. He already felt heat trickle up his spine thinking about it, hanging helpless from the ceiling, Yancy’s cock pushing into his throat --_

_A stern look from Yancy had him blush, clearly caught in his fantasy. “Sorry,” Chuck said, laughing._

_Yancy smiled back. It was so wonderful to have Chuck think along with him, to decide on things together. Instead of just kneeling and letting Yancy decide everything for a scene. There was only so much imagination Yancy had available, and two dirty minds came up with a lot more._

 

\---

 

 

Yancy picked up the gag that he’d thrown on the floor and walked to the table of attributes at the side of the room. When he came back, he was carrying a machine the size of an old-school blu-ray player and a whole bundle of wires with round white stickers attached to the end. Chuck whimpered at the sight, but didn’t say anything. Yancy put down a leather bench in front of Chuck and a table by the side, and then rolled out a power extension cord to the table. He plugged in the machine, and its display lit up. Yancy untangled the bundle of wires until his hand was full of about a dozen ends with round, white stickers on them. Chuck angled his head to the side as much as he could, trying to see what Yancy was doing, but Yancy ignored him.

 

Yancy put the stickers over Chuck’s body in a symmetrical pattern: on his thighs, ass cheeks, lower abdomen, pecs and biceps, making sure to put some special lube between the stickers and Chuck’s skin so there would be better contact and no burns. Then he fished a small metal buttplug and a cock harness out of the tangle of wires, both also connected to the machine, and walked to Chuck’s front, holding them out in front of him.

 

“How about these, pet?” Yancy said.

 

Chuck shook in his ropes when he realized what the toys were supposed to do to him, simultaneously afraid and curious. Electro-torture was Yancy’s thing, and Chuck had agreed to this. But he didn’t know what he could manage or how far he could go. That was the point, though, he reminded himself. He could always call out a color, or even his safeword. He trusted Yancy, knew he would never ignore his signals, never push him too far. And truthfully, the idea of being shocked by a plug and harness… it was exciting.

 

“Try me, sir,” Chuck growled, the naughty glint still in his eyes.

 

Yancy’s hand flew to Chuck’s throat. “You’re being very bad, pet,” he hissed.

 

Chuck snapped his teeth at Yancy again with a low growl. “Why don’t you punish me then, sir,” Chuck said.

 

Yancy’s hand tightened around Chuck’s throat until he was gasping for breath, and then let go.

 

Yancy circled around Chuck with large steps and stepped between Chuck’s legs, each tied together separately by ropes running around the calf and thigh, leaving Chuck’s ass available. Yancy would’ve shoved the plug in dry if he hadn’t known that the lube would aid in conducting the electricity and make it hurt more. So he squeezed on a few drops, spread Chuck’s ass cheeks with one hand, and firmly shoved in the plug with his other hand.

 

Chuck moaned at the intrusion, arching up his hips as much as he could. “Oh yes sir, give me more,” he laughed. Yancy lifted up his hand and smacked Chuck’s ass hard, which only elicited another moan.

 

Finally, Yancy pulled off the cock ring and replaced it with the harness. Chuck groaned as Yancy’s fingers worked around his dick, and he moved his hips around as much as he could, making it more difficult for Yancy to place the harness correctly.

 

When Yancy was done he walked back to Chuck, grasped his hair and yanked his head up. “You’re being an insolent brat,” Yancy hissed.

 

“Punish me, sir,” Chuck growled back.

 

Yancy’s eyes flared fiercely, and he walked to the machine. Without saying another word, his hand was on the dial and he turned it up halfway.

 

Chuck’s scream echoed through the room.

 

Yancy turned the dial back down, and waited. Chuck’s body shuddered and he was gasping for breath.

 

“Color, pet,” Yancy said after about a minute.

 

“Green,” Chuck breathed. “Green, if you go slow… sir.”

 

This was like nothing he’d ever felt before. Chuck imagined this is what being struck by lightning might feel like. Intense, white-hot flashes of pain seared through his body, ringing in his ears. There was no pleasantness about it like the spread heat of a flogger or the thud of a large paddle. Not even single tail whips hurt like this. It was pure, unfiltered pain. The plug made his entire belly hurt, sent spikes through his spine, and the harness felt like his cock was being stabbed by tiny needles.

 

Yancy turned the dial up again, only barely, this time.

 

A soft, tingling buzz spread through Chuck’s body. He held his breath, already anticipating worse. His lower body felt unusual, shaky, the plug and harness more intense than the stickers everywhere else.

 

Yancy turned up the dial a bit higher. “How is this, pet?” he asked.

 

“It hurts,” Chuck said, gritting his teeth. His muscles twinged and shook, pain spreading out from his spine to his limbs in fierce, rapid waves.

 

“Well, you have been a very bad boy,” Yancy said. “I don’t like doing this to you, pet. But you need to understand what happens when you do not behave.” He turned the dial higher again, and Chuck hissed.

 

His lower abdomen felt very strange. The shocks were doing something to him Chuck had trouble describing, and he squirmed in his bonds. “Sir, I have to…”

 

“You have to… what, pet?” Yancy said, raising an eyebrow. He had a pretty good idea of what Chuck was trying to say, having prior experience with this equipment, and he’d prepared. He walked to the table at the side of the room and came back carrying a metal bucket, which he placed underneath Chuck.

 

Yancy turned the dial higher, sending another shock through Chuck’s body. Chuck yelled and involuntarily trashed against the ropes, sending himself swinging.

 

“I can’t… I can’t hold it,” Chuck gasped. The muscles in his body refused to obey him, tensing and relaxing of their own accord, the electric shocks throwing his nerves into disarray. He sensed the release of pressure in his body, cramps very low in his belly, and whimpered. Heat built up in his cock, flaccid and restrained in its punishing harness, and then the small muscles in it tensed and relaxed in tiny pulses. Chuck let out a loud sob and emptied his bladder into the bucket below. The smell of urine filled the air.

 

“Oh, what’s that? You couldn’t hold it in, pet?” Yancy sneered. “You’re worse than I thought. Can’t speak politely, can’t hold in your piss… tell me, what can you do?”

 

Chuck sobbed again. This was different from the scene before; this time, Yancy wasn’t taking part in an intimate ritual. Yancy was mocking him, humiliating him. And Chuck felt terrible, ashamed, ridiculed. They’d never gone this far before. And he felt a dull ache in the pit of his stomach, a tight, dark yearning that left him even more ashamed of himself.

 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Chuck said, without a shred of arrogance this time. Tears welled up in his eyes and rolled down his cheeks in thick drops, and he was unable to stop them. His entire body seemed to slip out of his control, black static buzzing in his ears and through his veins and he went limp against his restraints, his head falling down. “I’m sorry,” he cried, gasping for air.

 

Yancy’s hand was under his chin, lifting his head up. “I asked you a question, pet,” Yancy said softly. “What can you do?”

 

Chuck’s clouded mind sought for an answer. He could do many things, but none of them right now. He was just hanging there, useless, only capable of mouthing off and dirtying himself. “I don’t know, sir,” he hiccuped, vision blurred through the tears. “I can’t do anything, sir, I’m so sorry.”

 

“What do you do well, pet?” Yancy asked, unrelenting in his line of questioning.

 

Chuck frowned, shook his head, trying to get it to clear up. “I’m good at… pleasuring you, sir?” he hazarded.

 

Yancy smiled. “Yes, yes you are, pet,” he said. “And that’s all you can do, isn’t it?”

 

The dark yearning that had been spinning in the pit of Chuck’s stomach opened up, gripping at his nerves and muscles, uncoiling into his body, bringing a new, absolute clarity with it.

 

“Use me,” Chuck managed to say with a choked sound. “Use my body to pleasure yourself, sir.”

 

Yancy made a grumbling noise of approval, and began to remove the round electricity stickers. This time, when he removed the cock harness, Chuck barely flinched, and when he pulled out the plug, Chuck tried his best to bite back a moan. Yancy moved to untie the knots that held Chuck’s legs suspended from the ceiling, followed by the rope around his calves and thighs. As soon as Yancy undid the ropes that held Chuck’s upper body aloft, Chuck sagged on the floor, his legs unable to support him after being tied up for a long time. The last bonds Yancy undid were those of Chuck’s arms behind his back, and finally, Chuck slumped down, naked and unbound.

 

Yancy stood before Chuck, towering over him, and Chuck looked up. He felt like he’d opened up, like he was able to let go. It was what today’s play had been all about, it had all built up to this, even if neither him nor Yancy had done so intentionally. He remembered the first time he’d been allowed to sleep in Yancy’s bed. He’d been afraid of this, back then. Not anymore, though. He craved this, more than anything. For Yancy to take him, use him, own him.

 

Chuck crawled to Yancy’s feet with whatever strength he had left, his body still wrecked from the electric shocks that had coursed through it. And then, he knelt as deeply as he could, making himself as small and low as possible, his head touching the floor.

 

 

“Master,” Chuck whispered.

 

 

Every cell in Yancy’s body momentarily lit up with the brightest, fiercest heat he had ever known. Like his heart shattered into pieces, gravitated back together, and everything inside him had changed.

 

“Louder,” Yancy commanded. “Show yourself.”

 

Chuck sat up, clasping his hands behind his back and spread his legs wide for Yancy. “Master,” he breathed, louder this time.

 

Yancy lifted his right foot and pressed it down hard on Chuck’s half-hard erection, the rough sole of his boot scraping over the sensitive skin. Chuck bit his lip, stifling a cry. Satisfied with Chuck’s response, Yancy put his foot back down on the floor. “Sit prone,” he said.

 

Chuck turned around, kneeling, raising his ass high towards Yancy, moving his hands to grab his feet.

 

“What am I looking at?” Yancy asked.

 

Chuck swallowed. “Your hole, Master,” he said.

 

Yancy grinned, planting his foot on Chuck’s taint. “That’s right. This is my hole, and I can use it however I want.”

 

Chuck couldn’t help the stunning arousal that shot through him, right from where Yancy’s shoe was pressing down on him, all the way to his chest. He so deeply craved this, to submit to Yancy completely, and finally being able to do so brought a sense of wholeness and freedom he couldn’t begin to explain.

 

“Yes, Master,” Chuck gasped.

 

\---

 

_Chuck winced when Yancy pointed out the electro-torture set. “That’s intense,” Chuck breathed._

_Yancy curled his arm around Chuck’s lower back. “Yes, it is,” he said. “Would you consider it?”_

_Chuck bit his lip. “I’m not against it,” he offered. “Why is it important to you?” Chuck had his own reasons for the enema play, and Yancy had agreed on it. So he figured Yancy had a good reason for this, too._

_“I… messed up once,” Yancy said. “I wasn’t even a practicing Dom for a year, when I figured I could handle it. But I… really hurt someone. And myself.” He looked at Chuck, realized he’d never told anyone about this before. Only Raleigh knew, and that’s because Raleigh had been the one to bring them to the hospital. “I stayed away from it, after that, never tried it again with anyone else.”_

_Chuck shook his head, not quite grasping what Yancy was saying. If he hadn’t tried it with anyone, then wouldn’t he still lack the necessary practice? “Not with anyone else?” Chuck said, confused._

_“Yeah,” Yancy replied. His thumb drew nervous circles on Chuck’s hip. “I only practiced it on myself. Until I was sure I knew what I was doing.”_

_Chuck’s eyes lit up. “That’s … wow,” he managed to say. To think that Yancy—who really wasn’t much of a masochist—would put himself through the pain, just to make sure his sub was safe. This was special to him too, something he would only share with someone he trusted. Chuck swallowed the lump forming in his throat, and nodded. “Okay,” he said. “I think we should do it.”_

_Yancy smiled, his hand relaxing and stroking Chuck’s thigh._

\---

 

“Go sit in the black chair,” Yancy commanded.

 

Chuck knew exactly which piece of furniture Yancy meant. It was a big black chair at the side of the room with stirrups and shackles for arms, head, torso and legs. Chuck crawled towards it on hands and knees on the rough concrete floor and climbed onto the contraption, lying down on his back and lifting his legs up to sit on the stirrups. This position left his ass exposed wide, and he couldn’t deny the hot, prickling wave of arousal that coursed through him as he opened up his legs for Yancy.

 

Yancy approached and ran his hands over Chuck’s thighs and ass, obviously appreciative of the sight, and hummed with approval.

 

“Arms up,” Yancy said. Chuck raised his arms crossed above his head, and Yancy tied them together with a couple of leather straps. Then Yancy tied down Chuck’s calves to the stirrups, nice and tight, pushed Chuck’s legs apart as far as they would go and locked the stirrups in place. Yancy added more and more straps, tying Chuck’s body as firmly to the chair as possible. Rather than using a gag Yancy forced open Chuck’s jaw and tied a strap between his teeth. Finally, he stood back and admired his handiwork. Chuck was completely immobile, legs up and spread, mouth obscenely wide open, teeth sinking into the broad leather belt. But more than anything it was the look in Chuck’s eyes that made Yancy shudder, a look of complete surrender, nothing but pure adoration and desire.

 

Yancy’s fingers dug in between Chuck’s ass cheeks, pulled them apart and ran his digits over Chuck’s asshole. It was reddened and sweaty from the punishment by electrified plug it had taken earlier, and Chuck suppressed a hiss when Yancy pushed his thumb down on it. A reaction that Yancy noticed anyway, and he grinned. It would be even nicer to fuck Chuck knowing there was a constant edge of pain to Chuck’s pleasure.

 

“What a nice-looking hole,” Yancy said, pressing his thumb inside. “But it’s so tight. I like my hole wet and open.”

 

At those words Chuck went fully hard so fast his eyes rolled back in his head. Yancy was going to fuck him, be inside him, use Chuck to pleasure himself, and that more than anything sent a surge of heat through Chuck. He wanted to please Yancy so badly, to serve his Master any way he could, do whatever was asked of him. He wanted to be taken apart and put back together, thrown down, picked up, driven mad. Chuck couldn’t stop himself from moaning into the leather belt, the mere prospect of what Yancy could do to him making shocks of desire course through his body.

 

Yancy let go of Chuck to grab some tools from the table. When he came back he was pulling a long black latex glove over his right arm, reaching up to his elbow, and carried a large bottle of lube. Chuck let out another groan of pleasure at the sight of both and Yancy wasn’t even doing anything yet.

 

Yancy simply grinned at Chuck’s obvious enjoyment and lubed up two fingers, then bent over Chuck’s strapped-down body and weaved his empty hand into Chuck’s hair, yanking it up hard. His lips were on Chuck’s ear and he felt Chuck shudder and squirm under him, even with all his restraints.

 

“What should I call you, hm?” Yancy mused, his voice a low hiss in Chuck’s ear, at once intimate and threatening. “I had a pet before. He was a good boy. But you…”

 

Yancy pushed in his fingers easily inside Chuck’s asshole and Chuck moaned into the leather belt over his mouth.

 

“You’re a little slut, aren’t you?” He felt Chuck spasm against him at those words, another groan of pleasure muffled against the leather. “Maybe if you serve me well enough, you could be my dirty little slave.”

 

Chuck shivered and whimpered and wanted nothing more than to be able to beg out loud, wanted Yancy to call him that, over and over, until the sound and meaning would settle into his blood and bones and become part of him.

 

Yancy added a third finger, stretching Chuck further open. It met with little resistance, as Chuck was still softened and stretched from earlier play. The electrified plug had worked out the tension in his inner muscles, and he had trouble even clenching up against Yancy’s fingers. Along with the glove and generous amount of lube, his ass made slick, sloppy sounds as Yancy’s digits pumped in and out of him.

 

“Hear those dirty sounds coming out you,” Yancy grunted, pressing himself closer to Chuck, his own erection straining against the leather fabric of his trousers. “It’s like that hole is begging to be fucked.”

 

The dirty talk coming from Yancy was doing incredible things to Chuck’s body. Yancy had always been disciplined, controlled, his words either calculated or caring in their play. But now… now that Chuck had fully surrendered, Yancy had let loose all of his own desires, spilling out obscenities from his lips, his cool exterior lost to arousal brimming in his veins. Those explicit words brought forth waves of intense pleasure in Chuck’s body as soon as his mind registered the meaning of the sweet sounds whispered into his ear. Chuck’s hips were thrusting towards Yancy as much as they could, which was barely an inch of movement, but he made the effort instinctively, moaning and whimpering all the while.

 

Yancy squeezed more lube onto his fingers and slipped in a fourth digit, thrusting inside Chuck and pulling out with a twist, scissoring his fingers apart. Now and then he teasingly rubbed over Chuck’s prostate, but the way Chuck was squirming it seemed like he would come with the lightest touch, and Yancy didn’t want that.

 

With most of his right hand still inside Chuck, Yancy reached into his pocket with his free left hand and fished out a cock ring—a tighter and meaner one this time. It was a thick, sturdy, metal ring with small spikes on the inside. Not sharp enough to puncture skin, but definitely pointy enough to hurt. With deft fingers and some concentration, Yancy managed to put the cock ring on Chuck’s erection, hard and throbbing underneath Yancy’s fingers. Chuck moaned as Yancy’s hand flitted around and whimpered when the ring tightened, the metal spikes digging into the skin of his dick. It was sublimely painful and delicious at the same time. He uttered a barely legible ‘thank you, Master’ against the belt.

 

Yancy shoved his fingers in faster, working his knuckles against the thoroughly wet and loosened ring of muscle. “Such a grateful slut,” Yancy growled. He tucked his thumb into his palm and curved over Chuck again. Slowly and at a constant pace he slid his whole hand inside Chuck, twisting his wrist around to push the broadest part of his palm past what was left of Chuck’s resistance. Chuck let out a deep, long groan, his eyes rolling back, eyelids fluttering. Saliva spilled out of the sides of his mouth where the leather belt didn’t close off his lips. “You’re loving this,” Yancy said hoarsely. “This dirty, wet hole is sucking in my hand, taking it all.”

 

Yancy decided he wanted to hear what Chuck had to say. His free hand fumbled at the belt buckle underneath the head of the chair Chuck was lying on and then yanked the makeshift gag harshly out of Chuck’s mouth, sending Chuck coughing and gasping for air.

 

“Tell me how much you love it, little slut of mine,” Yancy said, his hand grasping Chuck’s hair, locking eyes with his partner.

 

“I love it so much, Master,” Chuck gasped. “You’re filling me up, stretching me wide open, making me open for you... it's so good.”

 

He felt incredibly full, Yancy’s fist curling inside him, stretching him. Slow, thick waves of pleasure rolled through his body as Yancy pushed his hand further with every stroke. From what Chuck could see Yancy was inside him well beyond the wrist and it felt like Yancy was splitting him open from bottom to top.

 

“Please use me,” Chuck whimpered. “Please fuck your hole, it’s ready for you, it’s wet and open, please, Master…” He was breathing so fast, shaking with raw desire, he felt like he’d go mad if he didn’t get Yancy’s cock inside him soon.

 

Yancy pulled his hand out fast, causing the filthiest moist sound as Chuck’s loose, lubricated asshole opened and closed around the broadest part of Yancy’s hand. Chuck mewled. He could feel how open he was when the colder air hit his insides. It was an exquisite, intensely dirty feeling.

 

Yancy leaned back, his thumbs pulling Chuck’s ass cheeks further apart. “Look at you, so open I can see inside,” Yancy breathed. “It’s all red and pink in there, all wet and ready for my cock.”

 

Yancy walked back to the table and peeled off the latex glove, discarding it in a bin. Then he divested himself off his clothes as his gaze drifted over the table. His eyes rested on two particular tools and he picked them up before returning to Chuck.

 

Chuck’s eyes grew large when he spotted what Yancy was carrying in his hands—a long, thin metal rod with a small round ball at one end, and a violet wand—an electric shock toy.

 

Picking up on Chuck’s reaction, Yancy laughed. “Don’t pretend you don’t want these, you dirty little thing,” he said. He secured the violet wand between one of the looser straps on Chuck’s left leg for future use, and then waved the rod in front of Chuck’s face. “And you know where this goes, don’t you?”

 

Chuck nodded. “Yes, Master,” he breathed.

 

Yancy’s hands swiftly undid the cock ring, and a satisfied smile appeared on his face when he saw the imprints the spikes left behind on Chuck’s cock. Then he coated the thin rod with the a few drops of lubricant.

 

Yancy grasped Chuck’s cock firmly with one hand, holding it steady in place. Chuck let out a high-pitched moan.

 

“Stay still,slut,” Yancy said. “Or do you want it to hurt even more? Maybe you do, hmm?”

 

He held the thin sounding rod above the swollen tip, and leaned closer. Then, with the utmost focus, Yancy slowly pushed the thin metal rod inside his urethra.

 

Chuck screamed. He wasn’t even sure whether it was out of pleasure or pain. The sensation was incomprehensible, intensely sharp and hot, and he felt like he had to take a piss but couldn’t, like he was already coming but wasn’t.

 

Yancy let go of the rod, and it settled into place, held there by the sphere at the top. “There,” he said, grinning. His index finger pushed lightly at the small metal ball, and Chuck let out a sob. “It looks so pretty now,” Yancy continued. “I think we should get you a piercing later.”

 

Chuck gasped. “Oh yes, please, Master,” he blurted out, flushed with sudden desire at Yancy’s suggestion, and Yancy laughed in response.

 

Yancy positioned himself in front of Chuck and stepped closer. His erection throbbed against Chuck’s balls, huge and rock hard. Yancy’s hands moved over Chuck’s thighs down to his ass, and pulled his cheeks apart again.

 

Yancy curled over Chuck, their eyes met, and they shared a quick glance of clarity, of understanding, something that they’d built up after weeks and weeks of play and communication. This was what they both craved so badly, but it was still play, all of it previously agreed upon. Instinctively, Chuck blinked slowly, closing his eyes for two seconds—once again reminding Yancy of a cat. And Chuck meant it the same way cats did: _it’s okay, I trust you._ Yancy returned the gesture with the slightest nod of his head, and not quite being able to hide the smile that was pulling on the corners of his mouth. Then, he took a deep breath, and shifted back into his role.

 

Yancy guided the head of his dick to Chuck’s opened and slicked-up ass and waited. “I want to hear you beg for it, little slut of mine,” he growled.

 

Chuck wasted no time replying. “Fuck me, Master,” he pleaded. “I’m yours to use, I want to feel you inside me, I'm ready, please!”

 

Moving his hands up to cup Chuck’s face, gazing into Chuck’s eyes, Yancy jerked his hips forward, and slid inside.

 

Chuck cried out, pure, raw emotion that shuddered through him, trying to find a way out. _Finally_ , was all he could think, _finally I can feel him inside me_ , and somehow he kept saying, “Thank you, Master, thank you,” over and over, as Yancy continued to push into him, agonizingly and wonderfully slow, inch by inch, until his full length was buried inside Chuck.

 

And Yancy stayed like that, his eyes still locked with Chuck’s, and let out a long, deep groan, holding himself back from slamming into Chuck right away. He wanted to take in every sensation of Chuck’s soft, slick heat engulfing him, welcoming him. Slightly uncharacteristic of the play—but he couldn’t help himself, he craved that extra intimacy—Yancy angled his head down and captured Chuck’s mouth with his own. And Chuck kissed him back, hungrily, moaning and biting because this wasn’t about being obedient to Yancy, this was serving him, and he knew Yancy craved all of it. Needed it. Whenever Chuck had been up in restraints, it was always Yancy who hadn’t been able to let himself go. He needed Chuck’s submission. And so Chuck gave himself, allowing Yancy to take what he wanted.

 

And Yancy took him. He began to pump his dick inside Chuck with long, deep strokes, fucking him slow and steady.He relished the slick, dirty sounds Chuck’s body made, his orifice so wet lube was dripping onto the chair and the floor. “You feel so good inside, so soft and wet for me,” Yancy groaned.

 

Chuck mumbled a reply, something between ‘oh fuck yes’ and ‘thank you Master’ but white static was slowly filling his ears with every thrust of Yancy inside him, pulses traveling up his spine, shorting out his mind.

 

Yancy pulled the violet wand out from under the leg strap, switched it on and touched the wand to the exposed skin of Chuck’s side. A bright-blue spark flew between the charged spikes on the wand through Chuck’s skin and Chuck jerked up in his chair with a loud cry. The electricity was sharp and localized, unlike the stickers before which had coursed through his whole body. A residual shock made it to the metal sounding rod in his urethra and he whimpered, trying to tell Yancy what he felt with what words he could still remember how to use. “Master, the metal, it hurts, please, I don’t know, please…”

 

Yancy ran his finger over the metal ball that covered the rod inside Chuck’s cock and Chuck sobbed again. “Fuck, oh god, please…”

 

Yancy slammed into Chuck again, angling his hips so that he hit closer to that oh so sensitive spot inside, and Chuck thrashed against his bindings. “Master, please!” Chuck exclaimed. His eyes were rolling back into his head again, trails of saliva running down his chin. He was losing himself, he could tell. Pleasure didn’t even describe it anymore. There was the sharp pain from the electricity but also the intense thickness inside his dick, stretching a part of him he hadn’t thought was possible to stretch, throbbing like the promise of sweet release after having to hold it for a long time, and then there was Yancy’s cock moving inside him, filling him up, hitting his prostate every other slide.

 

“I can’t, I can’t, Master, please,” Chuck gasped, not even sure what he was saying anymore.

 

Yancy sped up his thrusts and zapped Chuck again with the wand. Chuck yelped and jerked against the straps again. “I know you can take it, my little slut,” Yancy grunted, working his hips deeper into Chuck. “You’re loving this, you want this, I can tell by the way your wet dirty ass is clenching around me.”

 

“Aaahh, ahhh, yes, please, more, more,” Chuck whimpered, the static buzzing in his ears and surging up in his mind, whiting out his vision. He was reaching for something, was almost at the edge.

 

Yancy’s fingers grabbed the small sphere at the top of the rod, and carefully pulled it out as he slammed his hips rougher and faster into Chuck.

 

Chuck's orgasm erupted out of him, his balls full and tight, aching to spill, the pull of the rod ripping his climax up and out. Chuck cried out, his scream echoing through the room, his body jerking up against the straps so hard a few almost tore apart, and his come spurted up high over his abs and chest. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he breathed.

 

Yancy’s hands fumbled and tore at the straps that held down Chuck’s body, and fortunately his hands had years of practice at tying and untying people. As soon as Chuck’s arms and legs wrapped around him, pulling him close, Yancy finally let go of his own restraint. The strong muscles of Yancy’s back, ass and thighs tightened, rippled in tension and then he slammed into Chuck, fast and relentless, shoving Chuck’s body higher up the chair through sheer force. Chuck’s hands dug into Yancy’s shoulders, heels into Yancy’s back, just trying to hang on as Yancy fucked him so hard Chuck figured the chair was going to break or he was going to break or both. Yancy’s hands were on Chuck’s hips, gripping him roughly, pressing bruises into the skin as Yancy was holding him down.

 

“So good, you’re so good,” Yancy grunted, feeling himself draw closer, tightening. He buried his face in Chuck’s neck. “Fuck, you’re so amazing, you take so much, take everything from me,” he hissed, losing himself inside Chuck. “I love you, Chuck, I love you so much,” Yancy said in a strangled cry, his arms tightening around Chuck so much he gasped for air and then Yancy’s hips jerked up, spilling deep inside, throbbing against Chuck’s inner muscles. Yancy collapsed on top of Chuck, his hips making a few last shuddering thrusts forward.

 

Chuck really hadn’t expected Yancy to break play so dramatically. But the words Yancy said made his chest burn so fiercely it hurt and he wrapped his arms lightly around Yancy, caressing his hair.

 

“I love you too, Yancy,” Chuck whispered.

 

Yancy’s cock slipped out of him and he felt the hot trickle of Yancy’s seed spilling out. And as Chuck slowly came back down from his orgasm, the constant rush of adrenaline and endorphins abating, he became very aware that possibly every cell in his body was exhausted and sore. He hoped Yancy still had some energy left, because his own limbs had stopped obeying his thoughts.

 

When Yancy found some of his conscious thought returning he sat up a little, smiled and moved to kiss Chuck – a long, slow, exhausted kiss. He stood back and admired the mess, both the chair and Chuck covered in their sweat, lube and come. Chuck was so open that Yancy's come was still spilling out and Yancy groaned at the sight.

 

Yancy leaned down over Chuck again and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him up and hugging him tightly. Chuck could barely move, so he let his head rest against Yancy's chest, smiling happily. Yancy ran his hand through Chuck's hair, kissed his forehead.

 

“I love you,” Yancy whispered, his thumbs running circles on Chuck's shoulders.

 

Chuck nodded against Yancy's chest. “Me too,” he whispered back with a smile.

 

\---

 

_“So… you know I get off on dirty talk, yeah?” Chuck said, blushing some more. This entire evening of conversation had pulled most of the blood in his body to his head and his dick._

_“I know,” Yancy replied. He tended to be more stand-offish in his play talk, more instructional than filthy. Maybe because he wanted to keep a distance, too. And he didn’t think he needed that distance with Chuck. Chuck was so much more than all of the casual play partners he’d had over the years. He’d had three subs during that time, but the bond hadn’t been like that, either. Not that emotional. Not that… close. It was worth a shot. “I think we can do that,” he said with a smile._

_“And uh… the chair,” Chuck added. Every time he looked at the black leather contraption with all the straps and the stirrups he imagined Yancy fucking him in it and it was pretty much what kept him awake almost every night and hard every morning._

_Yancy laughed, not having to guess much at Chuck’s chair fantasy. “The chair sounds good,” Yancy agreed. Then he put the laptop back on his lap, and Chuck leaned over. “I also want to try this on you,” Yancy said, pointing at another article in the Kink Dome web shop._

_Chuck’s face scrunched up trying to imagine how that would work. “Does that go inside my dick!?” he exclaimed._

_“I have it on good word it’s a very interesting toy,” Yancy said._

_Chuck raised an eyebrow. “Please don’t tell me that word comes from Raleigh,” he groaned._

_Yancy’s hearty laugh was all the confirmation he needed. Chuck was convinced this was Raleigh’s subtle way of getting back at him for all the sweater criticism. But he made a mental note to ask Mako about the toy. Plus… the description on the website was kinda promising. “I guess we could try it,” Chuck said._

\---

 

 

They both slept well past noon. As usual after intense scenes, Chuck didn’t quite remember how he ended up in Yancy’s bed all cleaned up, but he knew that when he couldn’t stand, Yancy would typically give him a bath. The thought of that made him shiver. Knowing he'd be out of it, Yancy taking care of him as he drifted off to sleep, getting all the messy sticky fluids off and out of his body... he chuckled, noticing the fantasy was waking him up.

 

Then Chuck tried to move, and his limbs still wouldn’t quite cooperate. He sighed and gave up trying. He didn’t care if he had to spend the entire Sunday in bed with Yancy, just sleeping. In fact, that sounded perfect.

 

Next to him, Yancy had made his way to consciousness, though ‘awake’ was a bit of a stretch.

 

“Chuck,” he mumbled, his arm crossing over Chuck’s chest, pulling him close. Yancy looked at him from under thick, sleepy lids and his lips curved into a wide, lazy smile. “Love you,” he said. Now that he’d started saying it, it’s like he couldn’t stop.

 

“Love you too,” Chuck said.

 

“I can’t move,” he added a few seconds later.

 

Yancy’s laughter was muffled by his face halfway buried in the pillow. Then, he twisted around to his side of the bed, rummaged in the drawer of his nightstand, turned back to Chuck and jingled a pair of keys above Chuck’s head.

 

“Yours,” Yancy said.

 

Keys to Yancy’s apartment. Chuck’s eyes flew wide open and his arm reached up for the keys.

 

Yancy grinned, pulling the keys out of Chuck’s reach. “Thought you couldn’t move,” he said wickedly, before lowering his arm and pressing the keys to Chuck’s chest. Chuck scoffed and clung to the cold pieces of metal on his skin, relishing what they represented.

 

“Maybe now you can,” Yancy said.

 

“Can what?” Chuck replied, not quite following.

 

“Move,” Yancy said.

 

Was Yancy saying what Chuck thought he was saying? “Move where?” Chuck hazarded.

 

“Here,” Yancy replied, placing his hand over Chuck’s and the keys. “Move in here. With me.”

 

Yancy thought that maybe he was going to regret this later. He felt strongly about his privacy and his space. But… Chuck was a part of that privacy now, and a part of that space. He couldn’t imagine Chuck not being there every day, not being in the same house with him. He needed Chuck there, he wanted Chuck's warmth next to him every night, he wanted to see Chuck's ass wiggle in his boxers as he fried eggs in the morning and kiss Chuck when he got home from work. Whatever time they managed to spend together was always encroached upon by Chuck's college work, Yancy's full-time job and the social lives they had outside each other. And it wasn't enough, not anymore.

 

Just a few minutes ago Chuck had figured getting the keys to Yancy’s apartment was a huge step. Now Yancy was asking him to move in. Chuck spared a thought for this crappy dorm room with the loud obnoxious drunk students everywhere and a roommate who never cleaned his shit up, and realized Yancy’s place was already more his home than anywhere else he’d lived before. But that had little to do with the apartment itself, which was just space surrounded by walls. He wanted to be here because Yancy was here. Yancy was his home.

 

With some effort and a few suppressed groans, Chuck managed to roll to his side, facing Yancy. “Yes. Yeah. I can move.” He smiled, a wide and happy smile that brought forth those tempting, wonderful dimples in his face. “I want to.”

 

Yancy smiled and ran his hand into Chuck’s hair, snaking an arm around Chuck's lower back and pulling him in close. “Good boy,” he whispered.

 

–-

 

_Those words never failed to make heat bloom up in Chuck’s chest and he bit his lip. Discussing the big scene was all well and good, but he was getting pretty excited from all the talk and no doing. And the way Yancy was looking at him with that familiar mischievous-but-stern glare, he felt the same way. Yancy closed the lid and put the laptop on the coffee table, then pulled Chuck into his lap and placed a soft kiss on his lips._

_“What are you in the mood for tonight?” Yancy said, running his thumb over Chuck's lower lip._

_Chuck slid off Yancy's lap and sat down on his knees. Then he leaned forward, resting his head between Yancy’s thighs. The thick curve of Yancy’s erection in his slacks already made Chuck’s mouth water and he looked up hopefully, pleading. After all the talking about their scene, maybe Yancy would be feeling generous. Or just really horny._

_“Dessert, sir?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This concludes BDSM Chancy (for this part of relationship anyway)! So happy you've read it all through with me. I'm a kinkster who identifies as a switch, and I wanted to explore both sides of the D/s dynamic with Chuck and Yancy's relationship. I hope I've been able to give some of you a better perspective on how scenes and play work, how negotiation is an important part of kink and that whilst subs bear the pain, it's not easy on Doms either! BDSM is a highly intense but also highly rewarding experience for those who are into it. 
> 
> Always play safe, sane and consensual, my lovely readers. <3


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